Sitting on the roof of a houseboat, I settled in for the evening program. The sun dipped low in the sky, glinting on the water. In the distance, a boat sped past causing a patch of reeds to sway in the ripples of its wake. Teenagers lounged in contentment on either side of me, listening as their youth pastor taught. Although I was serving on staff at camp, I was only a few years older than most of the students. I wanted to believe that I was more mature than them, but the pastor’s words pierced me with fresh conviction.
I’d arrived just a few days earlier, showing up 24 hours after my high school graduation. Since I’d attended the camp with my church in prior summers, I felt confident in my ability to be a leader. Working at Houseboats had been my goal since my first time as a camper. Fun with friends, water skiing, sunbathing, and dynamic leaders had drawn me back every year. I liked the way I felt at camp—there was a sense of Christian community that was authentic and meaningful.
In spite of all this, I was nursing serious self-doubt as a leader once I got there. I felt like a fraud. Even though I’d accepted Jesus as a child and had gotten confirmed as a teenager, an ingredient in my spiritual life seemed to be missing when I compared it to others on staff. I’d straddled the fence between my Christian faith and a worldly lifestyle for the majority of my teen years. There had been moments of deep connection with God at camps, but I hadn’t pursued Him consistently in daily life. Now, I felt like I’d missed out on so much because I’d drifted through my teen years with a lukewarm faith.
When my first group of campers had arrived, I’d enjoyed participating in their nightly programs, singing worship songs, and hearing their youth pastor teach. He had kicked off each evening by reading one chapter from Robert Boyd Munger’s My Heart Christ’s Home. The booklet is an allegory depicting a new believer inviting Jesus to live in his home. Together, they tour all the rooms which represent different aspects of our lives. For example, the dining room represents our appetites and desires and the rec room encompasses our fun times and friendships.
Listening along with my campers, the Holy Spirit began showing me areas of my life that I’d been holding back from the Lord. Perhaps the most impactful for me was hearing about the living room, where Jesus and the new believer planned to meet every morning to talk and study together. At first, they met daily, but after a while, busyness interfered with their regular time together. Here’s the portion of the chapter that struck me most:
“As I passed the living room, the door was open. Looking in, I saw a fire in the fireplace and Jesus was sitting there. Suddenly in dismay I thought to myself, ‘He was my guest. I invited Him into my heart! He has come as Lord of my home. And yet here I am neglecting Him.’
I turned and went in. With downcast glance, I said, ‘Blessed Master, forgive me. Have You been here all these mornings?’
‘Yes,’ He said, ‘I told you I would be here every morning to meet with you.’ Then I was even more ashamed. He had been faithful in spite of my faithlessness. I asked His forgiveness and He readily forgave me, as He does when we are truly repentant.
‘The trouble with you is this: you have been thinking of the quiet time, of the Bible study and prayer time, as a factor in your own spiritual progress, but you have forgotten that this hour means something to me also. Remember, I love you. I have redeemed you at great cost. I value your fellowship. Now,’ He said, ‘do not neglect this hour if only for my sake. Whatever else may be your desire, remember I want your fellowship!’”
Until that moment, I’d never considered how Jesus felt about the relationship we shared. I understood the sacrifice He made for all people on the cross, but I’d never grasped how much He loved me personally. Once I’d asked Jesus to be my Savior, I hadn’t nurtured our relationship. It was like I’d invited Him into my home, but had left Him standing in the entryway. I thought He’d mess up my plans and expect me to do things His way if I let Him in any further.
Hearing that booklet read aloud was a powerful turning point in my faith journey. On one of the final days at Houseboats, I sat on a small beach during solo time and told Jesus things were going to be different between the two of us. Digging my toes into the sand, I wrote a prayer telling Him I wasn’t holding back anymore. I was fully committing to Him, even though it meant making some big changes and hard choices when I got home. I was ready to surrender and have Him not only be my Savior, but my Lord as well. Since then, He’s continued to expand His presence in every room of my life.
My turning point happened over three weeks on a houseboat at the Sacramento Delta. But each follower of Jesus has a unique story about when and how this occurred for them. Recently, I’ve been privileged to dialogue with others about their experiences with Jesus through my involvement with IF:Danville. I’m excited for you to hear them this Thursday during Week 2 of IF:Danville at Home. You’ll have the opportunity to watch interviews with several women who have discovered the joy of knowing Jesus personally and intimately. Each of their experiences is surprising and unique, but also relatable. I hope the variety in their stories will help you to see that God pursues us intentionally and individually to draw us to Himself.
For more information about IF:Danville at Home, click here.
To read My Heart, Christ’s Home, click here.
Sonshine Ministries is the camp where I surrendered to Jesus. This summer is the first time since 1975 boats will not being going out due to COVID-19. If you’re looking for a worthy cause to support, consider making a donation to help this ministry stay afloat. Click here to visit their website. You’ll find giving options under the “support” tab.
