The camp is full and wild tonight. Everyone’s huddled in a circle drinking tall boy beers, cussing, and raising a ruckus. Saturday night is usually a bit crazy. It’s only six o’clock, but it’s obvious this party has been going awhile.
Mark and Super Dave are playing music. Mark has a harmonica in his mouth and a bamboo shoot in each hand. Using the bamboo like a pair of drumsticks, he smacks a string of small glass bowls on the ground. A hobo drum kit. Super Dave tinkers with his guitar while my friend Pat takes a seat and starts to tune. Pat’s one of the most talented worship musicians I know.
Pat, Super Dave, and Mark mess around while they find some rhythm together. After one warm-up song, Pat bursts out in worship, “Before the throne of God above…“
The whole camp goes mute.
It’s like heaven just reached down to silence us. Worship cracks through the alcohol and the drugs and the noise. I have chills. The presence of God is palpable.
One by one, I watch the Holy Spirit hit like a sledgehammer… Keep Reading
