Dear God,
I don’t understand what you must’ve been going through the day you made humidity. Did you have a fight with someone? Were you in a bad mood? Every time I walk outside I hold my hand in front of my face and it’s all blurry -- like some kind of abstract painting! I guess it’s ok. If we didn’t have your summer humidity, we wouldn’t appreciate your chill Fall air.
It’s already the fourth day of camp and I’m liking it so far. Just not loving it. Well, most of the kids here know each other already because they were going to Camp Mossytree for a few years together. So there’s a lot of inside jokes I’m not in on. I keep wondering if there’s a kid who was with them last summer who is at Camp Cross now, and he’s in the same shoes I’m in. And all the guys in youth group were totally right -- no one here seems to care about you! There’s so much cursing, and I’ve even overheard some of the counselors talking about scoring some drugs from some townie who comes down by the lake to deal. Maybe I’ll keep my eyes and ears peeled for when they go meet the guy. I keep imagining this moment when I rip out a page from Revelations and suggest they roll their drugs in this!
I think I’ll write to you some more today, but not in the cabin! I’ve been sitting here on the bed while all my other bunkmates are down at the lake, and it’s hotter in here than it is out there! Plus that creepy janitor guy is in here fixing the door latch. I think his name is Walt. He just asked me who I’m writing to and I said you. He told me if I want to meet Jesus, I should follow that counselor Tina into the shower some day. Whatever that means I’m not sure. I do like that Tina, though. She has a nice smile.
In Jesus’s name, Amen.
Ike
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