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until my head ached, but only one of my kids stood up on the last day to say he had opened his heart to Jesus. Overall only eleven kids stood up. Eleven kids! That sucked. Rich still got weepy and smiley and told the whole camp that the angels were celebrating, so we played “Celebrate” by Kool & the Gang and dropped balloons, but all us counselors were pretty bummed.
    Session two was feeling a lot like session one. The kids loved the four-wheelers, the theme parties, the hot tub, the rappelling lessons, but didn’t give a spit about the Lord and Savior. They were too busy making out behind the dining hall to care about God bearing the burden of their sin. I had this one kid from Denver in my cabin who said that his hobbies were “pounding beer and pounding babes.” I caught him having sex with a girl in the hot tub after hours. I told him that every time he puts his penis in a girl who’s not his wife he’s putting a nail into Christ. But he still didn’t give a squat.
    Then on the last day of the session, Will died. Will was a counselor who also took care of the horses and he was practicing a stunt for the Farewell BBQ and Hoedown when he got thrown. It was horrible. Like someone punched the whole camp in the stomach. We went ahead with the BBQ and Hoedown, but it was no fun.
    That night, standing in front of all the kids, Rich looked tired and sadder than I’ve ever seen him. “You know what, I don’t feel much like talking tonight. But you know what? Will would want me to tell you about Jesus.” Rich didn’t move on the stage or crouch or whisper or spread his arms at all that night. Just stood in the center and talked. “That’s what he’d want. Because, yeah, we’ve got some fun stuff up here, we sing some fun songs and the ribs tonight were pretty excellent, but the only reason, the only, only reason, is so we can tell you about Jesus. And Will would gladly die if it meant that just one of you would have a chance to meet Jesus.”
    I mean, kids were falling over themselves to give their lives to Christ. One hundred and ninety-seven kids stood up and told everyone how they now love Jesus. And the ones who didn’t stand up felt pretty stupid and probably came to Christ on the bus ride home. Even my hot tub kid from Denver stood up, all crying. He told me he was never going to pound a girl again.
    â€œExcept your wife,” I said, and we laughed. I gave him his own Adventure Life New Testament and hugged him goodbye. That was the best.
    After the kids left and before the next group rolled in, we counselors started talking. Rich was right. It was worth dying to see kids loving Jesus. We stayed up real late in the Coffee House,just the counselors, praying and singing and reading Acts aloud. And it was like the Spirit was leading us. There were four more sessions in the summer so we drew lots like the disciples did to replace Judas. I got session six, the last session of the summer. All the counselors were crying and smiling. They laid hands on the five of us and prayed. Pricilla Brone had her hands on me. They were warm. I was so happy, so filled with the spirit, so ready. I could hardly wait till my session. It was like promising to die made God more real. I could touch God. I was scared, sure. But Jesus was scared. He cried in the garden. I was scared like he was. At dawn we all climbed to Christ’s Point and sang hymns.
    After that we never spoke of the agreement, not letting our left hand know about the right hand. In fact, by the middle of session three, I was beginning to think nothing would actually happen, but then Crick Peppers “accidentally” locked herself in the kitchen freezer. In session four David Blankins “forgot” to open any of the garage windows while doing repairs on an idling four-wheeler. Becky Towt choked on a doughnut in session five. I have no idea how she managed that. My plan had been to