Camp Omagh

Eighteen years ago today I was baptized at Camp Omagh... which scares me a little bit in that I feel like 18 years after making a public commitment to walk with my God, I should be a lot more mature in the faith and a lot more knowledgeable in the Scriptures... I will say that I am definitely still a work in progress, and live a life better than I deserve, being blessed beyond my wildest dreams.
I guess this is why Omagh memories always seem to flood me in the month of August. It may also be that August is so unbearably hot in the Gump and makes me long for the summer weather and activities of Southern Ontario... the Ex, the air show, Wonderland, cottage time, jello fights, and backyard barbeque's... But Omagh will always be a part of what I miss about my teenage years and teenage friends.
Making the decision to get baptized at Omagh was about as easy as it could be considering the importance of the decision. I simply can not put into words what my camp friends mean to me. There I was surrounded by people who loved me for being me, which meant more to me at that time in life than anything. Don't get me wrong, I had a very loving family and extended family. But this was different... At school I was the skinny, awkward, LOUD girl with unfortunate hair, and a handful of acquaintances.. I had one true friend who stuck by me through everything. But at camp I could be me and never had to justify myself or pretend to be someone I wasn't. I was loved for who I was, a child of God. And so, on August 25th, 1990 I stepped into that pool with that cross floating behind me, and publicly surrendered my life to God...