Breakthrough in the Barn

Despite some twinkling stars, it’s dark outside. A small, shadowy figure darts behind a pine tree, breathless, tiptoeing softly as a panther. Suddenly—a flash of light breaks through the gloom. The kid crouches low, trying to melt into the ground. He’s Agent 007, aiming to evade capture and make it to the final destination. Which tonight could be Hill Cabin —where other kids, successful in eluding their camp counselors during this evening’s game, lounge about, boasting of their sneaky prowess.

Night games are a highlight of Kids’ Camp for many campers. So are the pranks and the fishing—and, when considered in hindsight, the late night earnest whispering with loving counselors. “Living with the kids brings in a whole different element,” explains long-time camp counselor Sarah Leon. “It permits this extraordinary accessibility. At Camp, kids have so many safe people available to them, and that leads to the kinds of deep conversations you can only have at 3:00 a.m.”

Neighborhood Ministries has been running a summer camp for urban kids for over a decade. The program occurs late in the summer, after Kids’ Club, and affords a kind of indepth follow through with a selected group of youth. Camp can only hold 65 kids, but that smaller number leads to a level of engagement between kids and counselors that both treasure. “It’s always sad that not everybody can come, but it’s amazing to see how God knows just which kids need to be at camp,” Andy Allen marvels. Andy’s been directing the camp program since 2002 and has over ten years’ experience as a camp counselor. And the miracle he witnessed the very first year gets repeated in some fashion every summer.

“That first year of camp was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen at Neighborhood Ministries,” Andy explains. “We took the toughest kids. And they broke the main water pipe and we couldn’t shower for two days. They broke everything! Kids were like bombing each other’s cabins, fighting, trashing people’s stuff. We were so new at this—all of us counselors were 17 or 18, so young. And we wondered if we were going to walk away from this with anything.”

But on the last night, God’s Spirit showed up for an Acts 2 kind of revival. Each evening, the counselors had led worship and Bible teaching in the Barn/Chapel at Mountain Meadows Campground in Payson, AZ. Usually it was tough getting the kids’ attention. But, Andy remembers, “At worship that final night, we were all singing and then all of a sudden, something in them just broke. It started with a small group of kids crying, then just became like a wave.” Kids opened up, admitting their hurts, confessing their sins. Andy marvels: “Kids who had been fighting were asking for forgiveness from each other and saying, ‘We need to stop this.’”

“Barn time” has become legendary at NM as the story of breakthrough. It’s when the light penetrates the darkness, when the hidden secrets and pent-up pain are finally released. “Sometimes the kids fight going to Barn time,” Andy explains. “They start to realize this stuff inside them, the hard and scary stuff. They fight to keep it in, but they want to let it out, too. In the Barn, they really start letting their guard down and processing.” Bringing the hurt out into the light is a prerequisite for healing, he adds. “If the issues just stay in the darkness, they just eat away at who you are.”

Barn time is where kids like Johnny Mendivil change. Way back in 6th grade, he came traipsing down the bleachers, moved to publicly confess his sins during a lesson on the pride and fall of King Nebuchadnezzar. At the 2007 camp, Johnny, now 18 and a counselor, kept a close watch on spunky Alexis Mora—the kid most like him during his rebellious middle-school days. “Johnny instinctively knows how to handle Alexis,” Kit Danley says simply.

These days at camp, NM’s first generation is tutoring its second. The effect of such indigenous leadership is powerful. As one camper, Jackie, says of Victor Lopez’ talks during Barn time, “It’s so amazing because I understand exactly what he’s saying. It’s like, that’s my life.”

(Excerpt from The Relentless Pursuit by Amy Sherman, 2007)