‘The Hardest Summer You’ll Ever Love’: How Crossings Made Me a Camper, Staffer, and Pastor

I wore highlighter yellow for two summers. The shirt left no part of my life untouched.

“I exist to proclaim the gospel.”

It’s simple. I believed it (still do!). But I never imagined that slogan would change everything.

I’ll quote Creed Bratton from The Office:

“It all seems so very arbitrary. I applied for a job at this company because they were hiring. I took a desk [bunk] at the back because it was empty. But, no matter how you get there or where you end up, human beings have this miraculous gift to make that place home.”

Crossings is still home. I hauled youth and kids to camp for eight years as a group leader. Now, as a pastor, I help edit Waypoints.

Crossings is still home because it takes me back to my roots. It’s home because it’s where I met my wife, found my friends, entered ministry, and—most importantly—gained a love to see sinners crossover from death to life.

Working at camp wasn’t easy, but it was good. Everyone’s Chacos stunk. But the staff loved me well. So well that one is my wife. Some were in my wedding, drove to the Grand Canyon with me, hiked the mountains in Colorado with me, lived with me, and—most recently—threw a baby shower for me.

My best friends understand what it means to use hype as a verb and the proper Powerade to Mellow Yellow ratio for a ninja turtle. However, they are still my closest friends because we learned together what it means to exist to proclaim the gospel.

The gospel remains simple at Cedarmore and Jonathan Creek. That simplicity led me to realize a call to full-time ministry. I later had that calling confirmed and became student pastor at our camp worship leader’s church. This entrance into the pastorate fueled me to attend seminary and begin a PhD. It all started at Crossings. It all started with me leading Axe-smelling middle schoolers in Bible study and teaching them how to aim a bazooka ball marker.

I couldn’t—and still can’t—imagine myself doing anything other than proclaiming the good news about Jesus. Which is exactly what I did everyday as a summer staffer.

I recognize working at camp is not for everyone. It’s a lot of pressure to know a mistake at the zip-lines can lead to serious injury while also dealing with the unimaginable trauma a student revealed to you. Additionally, you’re being trusted to keep the property clean and display enthusiasm as if every day is day one. You can’t just decide you need a break—the campers depend on you.

There’s a reason they say it’s the hardest job you’ll ever love. Ministry is hard work. Your reward may only be in heaven. God may be the only witness to see the extra effort you put into picking up trash so that a kid wouldn’t be distracted during worship. Crossings instilled a mindset of excellence in me—to see my work as primarily to glorify God.

No task can be too small or too difficult if the goal is creating an experience for sinners to hear the gospel. And what payoff is better than seeing the eyes of students’ hearts opened to the love of Christ? In those moments, all the stress and sunburn are worth it.

Knowing we are instruments in the Lord’s hand is the highest privilege I can imagine. Crossings gave me the opportunity to serve every day at a pace I’ll never be able to replicate.

All this to say, I had no idea why God called me to eat Haiti Day meals every week. But he had plans. Being a summer staffer seems like such a small part of my life now. It was only six months. Six months of little rest, high pressure, and mustering enough excitement to play lunch games with all three rotations.

Yet, everything I have I owe to this job. Not the job necessarily. But the exposure to the gospel through the job and the stemming relationships.

I think of Crossings every time I watch the series finale of The Office (and it’s been a lot). There were lots of tears when we packed our bags. But the good ole days didn’t end after I left Crossings. For me, that’s where they started.