I’ve never been the competitive type. I’m one of four children but I’m the baby by ten years. I was raised in a musical family and the closest I got to anything athletic was dancing, but that ended after I broke my arm (apparently I can’t dance without the use of my right arm). I continued my anti-Athlete throughout college but randomly did sportsy things while at camp because we always had the mantra of everyone winning. I was almost usually the slowest runner, worst thrower, and ALWAYS had horrible aim. But no one seemed to care.
And then Outdoor School came around and I seemed to be surrounded by Type 4s (the competitive ones). Fortunately, I had a few Type 1s (the emotional ones, aka ME!) so I wasn’t alone. We played physical games and I always seemed to help my team lose, walking away feeling a bit down on myself. The morning we were supposed to go over how to lead Rock Wall was not my most enthusiastic morning. I have musical, emotional, mental and personality strength, but physical? Definitely lacking. The idea of having to physically move myself up a wall seemed impossible, especially considering I barely got a foot off the ground in high school when we had to climb the rope in the gym. All I got from that was rope burn and shame. Once Peter, our instructor, started talking, it was as if he was speaking a language I had never heard before but I instantly understood it.
When he put that rope into my hands, I was making knots as if I had been born a sailor and had been doing this for years. I slipped into the tight, secure harness and carefully made my way up the wall in a short amount of time. My staff mates cheered me on and I felt so proud as I touched the gold ring, belting “Alleluia!”
Rock Wall made sense to my rhythm and melody body
because it wasn’t me losing or winning for a team or myself,
it was me pushing myself at my own pace
to reach a goal with the support and encouragement
of people around me who wanted to see me succeed.
Each week, I look forward to having the opportunity to lead Rock Wall and help campers climb to the top, belting “Alleluia!” But each week we have at least 3 or 4 campers who can’t make it all the way up. That’s totally fine—we tell campers to push themselves as much as they can but if they can’t make it all the way, at least they tried. So much of life’s difficulties seem harder than they really are until that first step of actually trying takes place.
One week we had a group of girls signed up for Rock Wall and almost all of them, before they even situated themselves into that too-tight harness, said they would not be able to climb the wall. Some didn’t even want to try. But they all HAD to try—their curriculum required it. I had hopes that some of them would get to the top but, honestly, I expected some of them to get 5 feet off the ground and call it quits, as many campers had before them. But then something happened. Camp happened. All 15 campers made it to the top and belted out “Alleluia!” while their fellow campers incessantly cheered them on. Some struggled more than others and a few gave up multiple times only to be encouraged into action by their friends on solid ground. David and I were able to belay two campers at a time and often the more skilled climber would stop climbing in order to support and give advice to the less confident climber. The greatest part was that these were two different schools so some campers were cheering on students they had never met. 
These kids were doing exactly what Christ calls us to do: love unconditionally. I couldn’t help but wonder that if every person was encouraged, pushed and supported 24/7 by the people around them to do and be the best they can, what kind of world we would live in. Would there be people without food and water? Would there be disagreements to the point of wars? Would there be discrimination and prejudice, knowing that God has created and equipped everyone differently but equally? These kids gave me hope for a much better tomorrow because Lord knows we need some help.
- Katey
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Joseph Zimmerly
