Assignment #9: Walk the Aisle: A Sight Not To Be Forgotten

     Most of us have, few of us haven't, but all of us have wanted to at one point or another: to go camping.  You know, out-doorsy, back-woodsy, all-dirty and no-sudsy tent-and-campfire-camping.  I love it.  My family usually takes our kayaks too, so we get the whole range of experiences, from wild animals, to flying tents to an invasion of freshwater jellyfish (ask later if you must).  But if I had to say which was the most influential camp experience for me, it would definitely not fall into this category.  No, as awesome as it is, Falls Creek's focus is not on enjoying the great outdoors.  I learned this in a gentle, but moving way.
     This past year was my first at Falls Creek.  I had gone with some trepidation and more intimidation, and not a little hesitation.  In short, I had no idea what to expect.  Everyone had said it was incredible, and fun, and memorable, and awesome, and, and, and, and!  But what was I going to find there that would affect me? 
     I had my answer on the very first night.  We'd gone to Tabernacle for our first sermon, and I thought it was very good.  I especially loved the worship (that's always been a favorite of mine from church camps).  And of course, it being a Baptist camp, there was an altar call at the end of the service.  Nothing big or unusual, just your run-of-the-mill "God loves you, come meet Him" altar call.  It's what happened next that I don't think I'll ever forget. 
     A few seconds passed without anything happening.  Then, about a dozen people filed down to the stage; then, a dozen more.  And in a matter of minutes, floods of students were half-running down the aisles to the front, eager to recieve Christ.  I could not believe it!  Hundreds, hundreds of kids just like me were so eager, so willing, so ready for Christ, that they overcame each of their own obstacles and joined the massive throng that formed.  For nearly ten minutes, the flow didn't stop.  The aisles were so packed, movement was pratically impossible!  And it just kept going. I remember I stood there with my hands over my mouth and tears in my eyes watching this harvest.  I could not even express my amazement and joy.  And right there and then, I knew that Falls Creek was a place of mighty power and purpose for God, and that I was a part of something wonderful there.  (As a side note, the bell tolled 191 times the next morning, once for each heart that now belongs to God.)
     In short, I completely support the altar call.  Calvinist as I am, I believe that we too have responsibility in the salvation process to make our hearts open and willing to God, and that He won't come to us if we don't first come to Him.  This tradition, though controversial in some aspects, I know has profound power, and I've seen it change so many hearts.  It's truly amazing what God can do with just one word: Come.