After two weeks of high school and middle school camps, I have been given a challenge. This challenge was birthed not in games or activities. Instead, it was birthed at the altar while praying over students who desire more of God in their lives. Being in the ministry, I pray for people often, counsel people, and of course have Christian fellowship. But the difference I saw at this altar with these students was not the altar itself, but the people. A boy with autism worshipped God without regard to how his voice sounded or if he looked ridiculous. He was not trying to impress anyone. He loved God and that was enough for him. I listened with tears running down my eyes and conviction in my heart.

For the past two weeks, there are so many stories similar to this one, many of which made me cry. If I could have but childlike faith, once more. This challenge was for me to recognize the beauty of worship as a lifestyle, as a dance, as a song, and above all, an encounter with God in spite of surroundings. It was not the extravagant prayers of a pastor, an evangelist or a elder. It was the simple yet deeply heartfelt prayers of 11, 12, and 13 year olds. Wow. Two days since the last service and they are still touching my heart. God moved my heart through a child. Never look down on them. Ever.