“The creek is BEAUTIFUL!” – Bluey

Water is important, isn’t it? Not only does Marketing Assistant Isabel drink a lot of it (seriously, ask her about Girl Scout camp sometime), but she also likes to ponder water’s more poetic attributes. From baptism to the Serengeti, water brings and sustains life. We’d die not only physically, but also spiritually without it.

There’s a magnetism to water as well. Look at a child who can’t help but go splash in a puddle. Observe the hordes who swarm aquamarine beaches every year. Even early Americans caving in Virginia couldn’t resist blasting away rock when they heard a mysterious rushing sound only to discover what’s now called the Lost River. We’re drawn to this life-giving element.

Isabel’s no different: she’s pulled to the trickling of camp’s creeks, which are two. There’s Blacksnake Creek, winding its way around the southern part of camp by campsite Blacksnake and the ropes course. Then there’s the creek that flows from the pond as drainage, arcing through the northern section of camp. They join near the Twin Creeks campsite in mossy, dark glory.

Isabel fondly remembers several creek experiences from this summer, including standing in Blacksnake Creek at the ropes course, taking pictures as campers braved the slackline across the rushing waters. She recalls hiking to Twin Creeks with her husband (Associate Director Jim) and their three children. Once they arrived, the kids immediately drew close to the water’s edge and started picking up rocks and throwing them in. Plonk! Enter squeal of delight. Water brings and sustains life.

If you decide to ever go for a creek trek at camp, don’t be fooled into thinking it’s all just water, slippery rocks, and sticks. Bend over a pick up a rock. Look at the bottom of it and see if you find any snails. Watch the insects. You’ll soon rediscover what you already know. Water brings and sustains life.

Water and camp are important to Isabel for another reason, as well, although not because of the creek. After two long years of pandemic, her second son, Ben, was baptized during a meaningful service at the Amphitheater. It was a special and joyous moment.

When Isabel is at the creek’s shore (or tromping through the icy water), she feels a baffling collision of emotions and sensations. She feels peaceful but not a quiet, restful peace. It’s an energetic peace, one of baptismal waters rushing over the surface, speaking hope and life. There’s possibility at the creek. Possibility for change, for movement, for the dance of the Spirit. Going to the creek reminds Isabel of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan. John writes:

The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him and declared, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him, but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.” And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Chosen One.”

Let us go to the creek’s edge and watch for the dove. Let us testify to the Chosen One. Let us remember our own baptisms, when we were baptized with water and the Holy Spirit. Go down to the creek to pray, sing, be still, or observe. You might find Isabel there, sitting and listening on the bank or maybe sitting cross-legged in the current.