No one is supposed to die at a Christian camp. No one is supposed to die from a simple game shooting foam rockets at each other, they are too soft. But someone did. We were playing a game of Foam Rockets and someone had a heart attack, the field was cleared, and CPR was begun. I found myself praying harder for this kid that I did not know then I had prayed for awhile. Suddenly thie book I am writing, homework, selling our house, having fun, paintball, Jediism, and all the petty things I was planning two seconds earlier did not matter. Two minutes passed, I prayed harder. Five minutes passed and I began to worry. It was ten minutes before the ambulance arrived. Then I heard the Camp director tell the ambulance driver that the kid had no pulse since he went down. With all the reading I had done, I knew their was little hope for this kid, and that if by some miracle he survived he would be virtually brain-dead. The ambulance drivers loaded him up and drove him off. It hit me hard, this kid is dead. It turned out that, thank God, that the camp had done this to show how imminent death could be. How in one unexpected instance, someone might have a heart attack, and how we might have passed by him in the halls of our schools or workplaces, and never have told him one word about Christ.
This drama actually hit me hard, I don’t have time to ease people into belief in Christ and the Force, I don’t have time to be diplomatic, I don’t have time to sit here and say it in a way in which I will be liked. We just don't have time.
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