Shalom, Siloam

When I was a kid, I came to Siloam Springs every summer for church camp. For nine years in a row, we'd drive up crooked highway 59 and spend a week eating bad food, pulling pranks, and learning about God. It was in this town that I accepted Christ, so it seems only fitting that I'm back here.

One of the things I remember vividly about church camp was the "mountaintop" feeling you had when you came home. After a week of fellowship with other believers, of twice-daily church, Bible study, devotionals, and constant prayer, it was hard to come back home to reality. So the enthusiasm waned as the weeks wore on and "real life" started again.

My grandmother asked me last week what my job was like, and I've been trying to figure out an answer to that question since. It occurred to me today that my job is like trying to work at church camp. The advantage of chapel, prayer and spirituality integrated into your workday coupled with the challenge of achieving goals, personnel issues, and boring meetings.

Oh, the meetings. Today I attended the most boring meeting in the history of the universe. And I was on a committee in Fort Smith called the "business continuity committee" where we talked about how to continue processes in the event of natural disasters. Today was worse. Faculty salary scales and steps and years in rank and percentages of base... I'm surprised my head didn't explode.

Am I too old to go back to church camp? It's just down the street!