I’ve been at a complete loss for words in the wake of the devastation that has taken place in the Hill Country and especially at my sweet Camp Mystic. Camp Mystic found me in 2019, during a season of my life where I was deeply hurting. After a year marked by profound sadness and loss, Mystic became my safe haven and it brought the light back into my life. It was more than just a summer job. It was the first place where I felt truly seen, loved, and accepted. Over the course of three summers, I wore many hats here: as a counselor, babysitter for the directors’ grandchildren, even kitchen staff—which was my very first job ever in a kitchen. But no matter the role, each moment spent at Mystic stitched something back together in me. I will be forever grateful for the magic of mystic and for who and how it has shaped me to be. I will be forever grateful for how this place permitted you to be exactly who you were made to be. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for Mystic. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the cross, how it seemed like darkness had won, yet it was truly the beginning of redemption. Jesus conquered death. And even in this pain, His victory will shine through. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” — John 1:5 Camp Mystic carries that same light.
Those girls carry that same light.
Dick Eastland carries that same light.
And the darkness will never overcome it.