This is an excerpt of an essay Dewey Dykes of Central United Methodist of Fayetteville wrote remembering a meaningful Mount Eagle OMP camp experience. In some ways, it was just a simple song. You can feel from his words that it was much more intimate for everyone there.
Nobody on staff knew how to play guitar, and we were scrambling to find someone that was not a camper so that family groups could sit together during worship. I called Travis Schmitt, who I had been on staff with the previous summer, and he agreed to drive from Van Buren to the camp to lead worship for us that night. He was a life saver. We decided to have worship outside that night on a bluff that overlooks a river below. Once dark, we moved from sharing in the dining hall outside to the bluff, and Travis began singing and leading the camp in worship. It was calm, warm summer night; a bit humid, but nothing too bad. We were surrounded by trees, with a light wind.
One of the things that I admire about Travis was the simple, no frills way that he would lead camp worship. With no pretension, he went about the business of worshipping in a way that I can only hope to someday emulate. On his final song before the end of worship, he began the song “I Lay Me Down”. It’s a slow song that builds and builds over the course of the time that you sing it, that normally reaches its crescendo with Travis reaching deep down into himself and bringing forth a voice that nobody could possibly expect. Countless times during worship, the entire camp would be so caught off guard by the absolute beauty of his cry “...and freedom is now the cry of my heart...” that the only thing to do was to simply wonder at the beauty of worship and its ability to move within people. Something was different about the night at Mt. Eagle, though. As the song started, the wind picked up a bit. As we sang and grew louder, the wind picked up more, and by the time the song reached the point that Travis began his loudest point, the wind was whipping around us, tremendously loud. It grew louder and louder and louder until the song stopped, and as soon as Travis muted his strings the wind died completely.
It was an experience like no other I have had in my entire life, and completely changed the way in which I look at worship. I saw it as the very Earth crying out in worship to the Lord, as it is suggested in Luke 19 when Jesus says that even the “...stones will cry out.”
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