Strangers in a strange land.

Our camp staff theme this year was "Travelers and Sojourners," so, appropriately, we dressed up like travelers and sojourners.



Angelica and I attempted gypsies, trying to evoke our central-European heritage (Croatian, Slovenian, Lithuanian, anyone?). We're Scottish-Irish, too, so Angelica did some research and was happy to find that gypsies wandered there as well.



Rachel and Shannon went for intergalactic time travelers, trying to evoke their alien origins, obviously.

The theme was inspired by the book Josh selected for this year's weekly staff Bible studies—Pilgrim's Progress. I read it six or seven years ago because I heard two guys talking about it at church one Sunday and wanted to be part of the conversation, so I checked it out on Monday and had it finished by youth group Wednesday night. Rereading the work this time, I came across a passage that had resonated with me on my three-day Bunyan spree, one that actually became quite a comfort and eventually a catalyst for some pivotal early-adolescent spiritual growth. Here it is, in the original:

I took notice that now poor Christian was so confounded, that he did not know his voice; and thus I perceived it. Just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it than anything he had met with before, even to think that he should now blaspheme Him that he so much loved before. Yet, if he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not the discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence those blasphemies came. When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me.