Now I remember my whole life looking at the directors cabin as something comparable to the Inner Room of the Temple, or the Most Holy Place. It was a place where incredible men in my life had not only stayed, but had imagined and executed amazing week long sessions of camp. Once I started counseling this cabin meant even more than the Inner Room…it was a sanctuary from the craziness of the kids in the cabin at 11:30 at night…It was just short of Heaven! However my first year in the directors cabin was anything but what I imagined it to be. In a year where my Dad would leave our family, I would leave home, and what I thought would be my future would walk out the door…the directors cabin was a very lonely place at night.

Thankfully the week before this week was teen week, in which I had the fortune of counseling with my awesome cousin, Thomas Anderson. Thomas (TA) has always been a spiritual mentor to me, and he was nothing less during teen week. I remember two things he taught me that week. First was that when you pray you always ask for God to provide you with an opportunity to talk to at least one person a day about Him (God…not Thomas). After praying that I remember my eyes opening to a world of possibilities, because that is one prayer God will always answer with abundance. The second thing Thomas taught me was this simple advise. It went something like this:

Talking to God is hard, you can easily get distracted, you can wonder if you are crazy talking to someone you can’t physically see, or any number of things that could hinder your prayer life. The solution? A prayer journal. A place where you sit down a write a prayer in the form of a love letter to God.

This may seem like simple and maybe ineffective to most, but trust me when I say it can create a powerful relationship between you and God. The Saturday before the week of camp that I directed I went to the Christian Bookstore in Clarksville and found a hard cover prayer journal. It is awesome!! It has the “Footprints in the Sand” poem inscribed on the front of the wooden cover. When I bought it, that was the coolest thing about it, but I had no idea what I was beginning.

During the incredibly lonely week in the directors cabin, that wooden covered book was such a tool for me, both then and now. Every night I laid in bed, flicked spiders of the bed, and wrote in this journal. It created an intimate relationship with me and God that I could never have imagined it doing. After camp I stopped writing. I will be honest..it is tough to take time to write a letter to God, most of the time we can’t even find time to say a prayer in our head (which we can do anywhere..how ridiculous is that).

A few days ago a was having a bad day and needed a reminder of God and what all he has done for me. While going through some boxes we have yet to unpack at our new place, I found it. The prayer journal from 4 years ago that was such a valuable tool. I started reading through all my prayers from back then. While reading it took me back, and I remember my passion in these prayers, I remember the tears that followed these prayers, and I remembered the complete breakdown happening in my life. One prayer that I prayed every night though was that he would give the girl that walked out back to me. I could see through my writing how bad I wanted that back, and how instead of trusting God with that prayer I was trying to control God through my prayer and make him feel bad for letting her leave…stupid Luke.

Here I am 4 years later, married to the most beautiful girl of my dreams, having a stronger relationship with my mom than I have ever had in my life, and starting the life I have always dreamed about.

I am so glad God didn’t answer my prayers the way I wanted him to.

Not because the girl wasn’t a great girl, but because God had a better answer to my prayer than what I could have ever imagined. The other day I was wasting my day away on Facebook and came across a status that said:

God’s 3 answers to our prayers. ♥ 
1. Yes
2. Not yet
3.I have something better in mind.

(Posted by Savannah Hudson, but after reading comments apparently it was “stolen” from Kirstie Whitakers Pinterest)

What an amazing thought. When I wrote down all those prayers I wanted an immediate answer and an immediate fix to my problems, but instead God was just saying “I have something better in mind”.

As humans we get so caught up in being independent we forget to be dependent on the one person who matters the most, and trust that he always has an answer, but we may not see it for days, weeks, months, or years.

The biggest part of prayer is trust!

We not only have to ask God for what we want or need, but we have to trust that he will make a decision that is best for us in HIS time…and that His time will be perfect in all ways.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

Philippians 4:6 

You don’t have to have to have an awesome prayer journal that has wooden covers, he doesn’t care about the book, he cares about the words that are inside the book. You can grab a piece of notebook paper and pencil and write God a prayer in the form of a love letter, and be honest with him in what you want, and how you feel. You will be amazed at how He will answer you if you just show trust and patience.

-Luke Williams

P.S. Pray for him to open one door for you to talk with someone about Him today…and sit back and watch Him work!! Love Ya’ll!

It was all I could do not to scream!!! SONNY had a hold of my hand.

Now let me back up and explain who I am, and why at that moment I was terrified. I’m George Shelton, I was at the time in my late twenties and if you know me then you know I’m a big guy and not really given to being really scared of much, BUT this was Sonny!! To those of us that grew up at Lylewood Sonny was the personification of all things scary. He was the shadowy figure peering in the window, the ghostly apparition lurking in the bushes; he was every bump, thump, or thud in the dark. In other words Sonny was the boogeyman incarnate.

My first week of camp I heard all kinds of stories about Sonny, how he would follow behind us on hikes, sneak around the cabins after lights out and pound on the walls. I heard that he always wore a white t-shirt and of course the most legendary thing about him were all the accounts of his amazing speed. There were all kinds of stories about how he could run lightning fast sometimes even running through fields that were overgrown with crops or weeds and how he could hurdle over fences and other obstacles like they weren’t even there. It was said that Sonny loved to stand under the pavilion at the top of the hill in the dark while we were on the roof for our nightly devotionals, people would say if you looked closely you could see the glow of his cigarette in the darkness.

Lylewood camp of course had lots of other tales. We were told stories about Baby Jim and Mad Myrtle but Sonny was the scariest for one very simple reason; he was REAL!! We all knew he lived just down the road from camp on the way to the ferry in a very spooky old farm house. He was often seen standing in the backyard always staring straight ahead. He would throw his hand up and wave, without ever actually looking in the direction of the passing vehicle. He had a horse (rumored to be blind) and a yard full of dogs. He had no car or truck apparently walking or running everywhere he went. He did often have a fully functional backhoe parked behind his house, something I personally always found particularly disturbing seeing as how he wasn’t in the backhoe business.

I had literally grown up hearing about Sonny and the legend grew with each passing year, so it’s not terribly hard to understand why those fears were hard to let go of. On the Fall day that I met Sonny face to face I was at camp to weed eat around the cabins in preparation for the upcoming retreats. I was there completely alone or so I thought. I was leaning over the side of my truck bed fiddling with the string on the weed eater right in front of the old boys restrooms. I didn’t hear him approaching even though he was walking on the loose gravel. I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye and raised my head from my tinkering to see a tall, older man walking toward me, we both said hello and he came over and leaned against the end of my truck. We stood there for several minutes talking about weed eaters, the weather, farming, and about someone who was buying up tracts of land all around the area. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that I was talking to Sonny even though I had seen him many times it had always been at a distance. So finally I said to him “you know, I don’t guess we have ever met, I’m George Shelton” and I held out my hand, as his big calloused hand closed around mine he said “I’m Sonny, Sonny so and so”, he told me his last name but I have no idea what he said it was, at the mere mention of his name my mind had gone to instant red alert. I had almost snatched my hand back away from him but somehow I managed t smile and say “nice to meet you”. He and I continued to talk for a few more minute. Well actually he talked while I stood there swallowing air and saying uh-huh a lot. My mind was racing thinking about all the times singing at the bridge or cooking out over a bonfire had I peered into the woods wondering if he was lurking there. Thinking about all the hikes bringing up the rear and turning to see if he was behind us. Now he was leaning against my truck talking away. Finally I said “well I guess I had better get busy it will be dark soon.” I didn’t say what was running through my head that there was NO WAY I was going to be here after dark with him lurking around!! So he said goodbye and turned to leave. I reached into the truck bed, pulled out the weed eater turned around and set it on the sidewalk. I bent down cranked it once then again, on the second pull it started. I stood back up with the now running machine in hand, turned around and SONNY WAS GONE. He was completely out of sight in a matter of seconds. I dropped the weed eater and ran around the building expecting to see him walking between the main building and directors’ cabin but he was nowhere to be seen. I ran down the hill toward the lake but Sonny was not to be seen. I turned quickly, walked back to my truck and threw everything into the bed. I got in and drove away as fast as I could having decided that the weeds didn’t need cutting after all.

Submitted by: Cathy Mimms with help from John, Mary Beth, Ben, and Katherine
25. Cleaning the cabins
24. Washing dishes
23. Walking the loop before breakfast
22. Hearing Baby Jim, Sonny, and Mad Myrtle stories
21. Listening to Mrs. Amy Glenn’s “clean your plate and stack your dishes” song.
20. Having fun
19. Love line
18. Attending the Spring Retreat
17. Attending the Fall Retreat
16. Being at camp for a whole week during the summer
15. Seeing old friends again
14. Eating, eating, eating, and eating
13. Bible lessons
12. Scavenger hunts
11. Swimming
10. Skit/talent night
9. Sweetheart kickball
8. Singing
7. Being away from brothers and sisters for a whole week
6. Hiking to the bridge
5. Singing on the Lyles porch
4. Eating ice cream on a hot, hot day
3. Making new friends that will last a lifetime
2. Being close to God
1. Baptisms

by: Amy Glenn

Several months ago the Little’s and Johnson’s came over to our house for dinner. Hayden and Bren had not gotten to play for a while and Josh was helping us decide how to best deal with some deteriorating grave-stones. We ate and talked, ate and talked, talked and then ate some more. In one of our conversations Margaret mentioned how she had at first felt like an outsider at camp. She noted it was hard to break into the “inner circle”.

Ouch. That was hard to hear. You see, I had always prided myself on being welcoming to new people at camp. I felt like I had ALWAYS greeted the new comers and extended a hand of friendship. It was only with close retrospect that I realized that I was a camp snob. Yep, it is true. I put on a good face and said “hi, nice to have you here”, but I was quickly off to spend time with my camp buddies from years past. I never took the time to truly invite the new kid to join in with my old crew. You see, I was four the first time I went to Lylewood. My parents were counselors so I got to tag along. It was great! I got to be with the “big kids” and more importantly, I new the counselors, the director, the cooks and many of the campers.

Not everyone is so blessed to show up at camp and know a bunch of folks. Many kids come to camp for the first time all on their own. Those of us who grew up at camp cannot imagine it as a scary place, but to many youngsters that is the reality. They show up, don’t know anyone, and don’t know how to fit in with any group. For them, the first few days are a nightmare.

I am writing this article to encourage you “old Lylewooders” to reach out to the new kids. Make them feel at home, talk to them, include them in your games and conversations. It is so easy to forget about the “new kid” in our excitement to get reacquainted with our “old friends” but for those of you who have been on the outside looking in, you can appreciate the position of the new kid.

And for those of us who have gone on to be counselors and cooks, we need to be welcoming of the new staff members as well. We need to include them in our traditions and share with them our love of the kids. Arch and Edwina have left us with a legacy of acceptance and love, it is a gift we should be proud to share.

So when you are at camp, make new friends, but keep the old….one is silver and the other is gold.

We are located on the Montgomery/Stewart County lines 30 minutes west of Clarksville, Tennessee. We host multiple Middle Tennessee Church Camps, as well as Open Camps and Retreats.

If you want information about renting the facility or want to join us for one of our open camp sessions please contact us so you can experience Lylewood Love! !