I was sitting in my cabin alone while all of the other camp staff and counselors were busy corralling campers, breaking up fights, and preparing for evening chapel. It was a weeklong summer camp for abused and neglected foster children. I knew it was going to be rough. I prepared myself for reckless behavior, shouting, angry outbursts, and a measure of chaos. What I wasn’t prepared for was what was going to happen on the inside of me as I encountered all of this. I sat on the edge of my bed weeping with my head in my hands and my heart on the floor. It was only day three of five, but I was ... Read the Post