Dynamite on the Mountain
We expect nothing less than great every year, at our annual JJC Boys camp. As in times past, God did not disappoint. God showed up and showed off. Many times we do not get to see the fruit of our labor, much less in such a short time span. The youth arrive not knowing what to expect yet they are excited at the same time. Some hide behind their county issued orange sweater as if it is a badge of honor, while others are ready for change. It does not take long for the young men to become boys and experience a carefree life, not having to watch their back, worry about their next meal, or whether they are loved. This weekend men that have experienced similar situations as the youth, shared their stories of redemption and how God changed their lives. There is no denying God’s presence and the power of the Holy Spirit on the mountain top. 10 out of the 11 boys gave their lives to the Lord for the first time or rededicated their lives. These young men recognized that they are loved and that there is nothing they’ve done that would separate them from God’s love, not even generations of racism. One young man in particular was brought up in a lifestyle where he was taught to hate and judge others simply for the color of their skin. During this camp God moved in his heart and he acknowledged that his hatred was wrong and he no longer wanted to live that lifestyle, let alone raise his young son up in those ways. This young man accepted the Lord into his life and made it public in a room full of his peers and JCOs (Juvenile Correctional Officers). He did not stop there. He acknowledged how an individual in the room, of a different race made a huge impact in his life and how he appreciated him. The deal was sealed with a long, genuine embrace by the two. The JCOs see the change and will testify how it is not just a mountain top experience, but something they take back with them to juvenile hall. Things like this only happen by prayer and fasting. Continue to prayer for the incarcerated youth and this ministry. This may not be your son, but it is somebody’s son.