After the Sabbath service during one camp meeting, my late husband Greg and I were standing in the cafeteria’s long line, a perfect place to strike up conversations with those nearby. We encountered a couple who we quickly suspected weren’t Adventists. Their comment about wondering what "haystacks" might taste like gave them away immediately.
Soon we overheard their conversation behind us and recognized God's open invitation to engage with them—to learn who they were, where they came from, how they met Jesus, and how they'd heard about Sabbath Adventists.
Turning with a smile, we greeted them. We discovered their names were *John and Susan, and they warmly smiled back. We asked simple questions about their lives—about family (did they have children?), their jobs, their interests, and eventually, how they first learned about Adventists. It's fascinating how interesting people's lives can be if we just pause long enough to listen and genuinely care.
Susan was a radio talk show host—and not one with a calm voice. She explained with animated honesty how aggressively she "sparred" with callers who dared challenge her controversial daily topics. (Greg always called it "dueling with words.") She admitted she'd used swear words listeners had to look up in the dictionary, something she wasn't proud of, clearly.
John and Susan joyfully shared how Jesus had transformed their lives, changing them profoundly from the inside out. They radiated happiness over this new direction—so much so that Susan even quit her job.
They asked if we wanted to hear what God had done for them just that morning. We assured them we definitely wanted to hear their story. Here's what they shared:
“We live about two hours from Camp Wakonda. Our church friends kept talking about camp meeting—how wonderful it was, how great the speakers were, the number of people attending, and the peace they felt there. They encouraged us to come, at least for Sabbath, mentioning that the church would share a nice potluck lunch.
“We decided we'd attend camp meeting, but this morning, both of us woke up feeling strange and irritable. We fought with each other, blaming one another for making us late, and didn't even want to talk, let alone share the same space.
“Then John suddenly said, 'You know what's happening, don't you, Susan? The devil doesn't want us to go.'
“So we decided we should go anyway, despite being late and still upset. Our drive there was in complete silence.
“But the moment we drove into Camp Wakonda, parked our car, and stepped out, both of us immediately felt like we had stepped onto holy ground.”
John repeated quietly, almost to himself, “It felt like we were standing on holy ground.”
John and Susan have since moved away. I wonder if they still enjoy attending camp meetings? Does it still feel like "holy ground" to them?
How does it feel where you stand?
Lesa Budd is the Wisconsin Prayer Coordinator.
*Names changed
