It was the Summer of 2001, or as I like to call it, the Summer of Firsts.
I was going into the 8th grade, and I went to my first church summer camp ever. This was also the first “sleep away” camp for me, and the first time I was away from my home for longer then a night. It was the summer that boys became men…or in my case, a boy became more of an awkward teenager.
It was the first time I ever did “camp things” like having s’mores or telling ghost stories around a campfire. It was the first time I went down a slip and slide made out of black trash bags that were held together by large tent stakes and completely dowsed in baby soap for *maximum sliding velocity*. A “traditional church camp favorite” activity of the early 2000’s. Looking back, that might have been the first time I had a near death experience without even knowing it!
Mostly notably, the summer of 2001 was the first time I had ever fallen in love. Her name was Katy Young, and she was year younger then me and I remember thinking she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I knew this was true love, because I had never felt like this before.
(In hindsight, definitely was just teenage hormones kicking in which was a totally new sensation for me!)
I knew I had to meet her, and then she would obviously feel the same way about me, and then we’d probably end up getting married by the end of the week at church camp.
I am by no means an expert of picking up ladies, but I have learned a thing or two in the past twenty years that 8th grade Drew did not yet know. Most notably, I know to impress girls it is important to actually speak to them. That may seem obvious, but 8th grade Drew was way to nervous to ever speak to a girl he was interested in.
So my plan was to go up to Katy during a activity, or sit next to her at the cafeteria, or find her at a Bible study and introduce myself. “Hey, I’m Drew” or, “Hi how’s it going?” , or even “Hi I think we’re soul mates!” But try as I might…I could never build up the courage to actually speak to her. I would get close! I would sit next to her, and then words chose not to leave my mouth.
And this happen. All. Week. Long.
So from Katy’s perspective, there was a middle school boy slightly older then her who just was following her around camp, all week. Wherever she went, he would appear. Wherever she sat, he would sit next to her…and just…Lurk. She had no idea the internal heartache I was dealing with trying to build up the courage to say Hi. All she saw was a sweaty middle school boy staring at her in shock and awe, which is significantly more creepy!
So yeah, I accidently was stalking her all week. Not one of my greater moments! We’ve all been there…right?
And I wish that was the end of the story, but it gets worse….
It’s Friday night, and we’re at our last big church camp worship service. I had spent all week following Katy around and never speaking…not one of my better looks! Now that we were at the end of my first week of church camp, I still had a few more firsts to experience.
I was able to be part of my first foot washing service. That is an event they usually do at church camp (and hardly anywhere else, because it’s so weird) where the campers take turns washing each other’s feet just like Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. Because nothing makes people feel closer to God then washing gross, probably unshowered, middle school feet at the end of church camp. At first we all were not so sure about this exercise, but when the youth pastor says “If Jesus can wash feet, so can you.” You say, “good point! let’s go!”
The way it works is that everyone got a number and when your number was called, it was your turn to come to the center of the circle, grab the basin of water and towel, and wash the feet of the person sitting in the chair. After doing so, they would get up and then you would sit in the chair and another number was called, and that person came and washed your feet.
So I washed the boy’s feet who was before me, both of us trying not to giggle at how weird this is. And then I sit down in the chair and they call out the next number. And because the Lord works in strange and mysterious ways, it was Katy Young’s number that was called.
If you’re feeling embarrassed for me, let me share now one of the most horrifying firsts that I experienced during the summer of 2001, so you can feel even worse. I learned being that far from home, and using public showers, how easy it is for me to get a real bad, and really gross, case of athletes feet.
So by the end of church camp but my feet were GROSS. This had never happened to me before, I just thought I was a mutant or dying or something. I had come to terms with just hiding my feet for the whole week and accepting my new norm. I definitely didn’t foresee that I’d be having to show off my gross and withering toes to the love of my life, future wife, and God given soulmate.
But here we were…
So Katy comes up to the center of the circle. She kneels down, with the towel over her shoulder and the basin of water nearby, and softly starts removing my shoe. And then, she removed my sock. I’ll never forget the look on her face…
Earlier that week we read a passage of Daniel 3 that said King Nebachezar’s face was distorted with rage and I was like “how can a face become distorted because of an emotion” but here in that moment…I saw Katy’s face distort from pure and utter disgust. I’ll never forget the first words she ever spoke to me.
“Oh my God!”
And I finally found the courage to speak to her, unfortunately after a week of trying to sound super smooth and cool,, my first words were about as romantic as you’d expect. With my face now distorted from embarrassment, I responded, “I am so sorry.”
Talk about getting off on the wrong foot, am I right?
And I wish…the story ended there.
Back in 2001 church camps did this ridiculously stupid thing where at the end of the week, they would give each camper a list with the names, emails, phone numbers, and HOME ADDRESSES of all the other campers that attended that week, so that you could stay in touch. Thankfully, probably because of kids like me, this is not something camps do anymore!
I remember getting this list, and having Katy’s contact info and thinking, “This isn’t how our love story ends”, I’ll send her an email! All I can say is at least I didn’t think, “I’ll show up to her house!”
I really thought long and hard about what I wanted to say in my email, and finally I came up with what I thought was the perfect message to my beloved. And I’ll never forget the email that I sent this poor girl, in fact I’ll share it with you today.
“Dear Katy.
Thanks for washing my feet. See you next year!
Love, Drew”
I never saw her next year, or ever again. And that’s the time I accidently stalked a girl in the 8th grade.
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