Camp Israel of God: A Journey to Know God

By Ariel Childs

'Are You Truly Converted?' is the gospel message that sends a twelve-year-old boy in search for truth. Naphtali—a skinny six-foot-one basketball player and video game lover—is sure of his relationship with God. And who can blame him? He attends church regularly and doesn't smoke or drink, unlike his peers. However, upon hearing a message about true salvation one night, he realizes things in his life just don't add up. The message convicts his heart. Once he falls asleep, he has a dream. In his dream, while propped against a tree, an angel appears to him and tells him to go through seven camps to find what he's seeking. With a most peculiar character as his guide, Naphtali journeys to seven camps—Tolerance, Freedom, Religion, Miracles, Love and Mercy, Slavery, Israel of God. There is no end to the perils he faces—from a camp that outlaws the Bible and deems it a book of hate to a camp that believes capturing people and selling them as slaves is big business! In each camp, he learns truth about God and truth about his own heart. Both young and old can identify with the internal struggles of fear, suffering, loss and temptation that Naphtali encounters as he embarks on truth. After learning truth, will he suppress it in his heart; or will he make the choice to deny his flesh, take up his cross, and follow Christ?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ariel Childs
• Release date: Sep 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201369064

Book preview

Introduction

He lifted the pillow from under his head and slammed it against the bed. Rising partway, he put his back against the cold wooden wall of the cabin. The tears he so fiercely fought to hold back now streamed quietly down his face. Wiping his face with the bottom of his T-shirt, he took a deep breath. He didn’t want to wake the other boys. He especially didn’t want them to hear him crying. More weight mounded on his heart as the minister’s words rang in his ears. Naphtali had never heard anything like what he had heard that week at camp. Something deep within was calling. Tears flooded his eyes and spilled over to his cheeks again. Naphtali felt he should pray but didn’t know how. Lying down again, he shielded his face with his covers. He cried quietly to himself until he finally fell asleep. Resting, but not truly at rest, he dreamed about the words he heard spoken by the minister. When he closed his eyes, he was at Camp Rose of Sharon for Youth, but in his dream he awakened to a strange new place.

1 Camp Tolerance

Naphtali opened his eyes and found himself sitting propped against a tree. The scattered light from the sun filtered through the leaves. He squinted to shield his eyes from the brilliant rays. In the distance he saw a figure coming toward him. A brighter light seemed to emanate from this figure, making him squint even more. Stopping a few feet from Naphtali, this figure spoke:

Go through these seven camps and you will find what you seek.

The figure vanished. Naphtali could not believe his eyes. Chalking it up to being between a state of wake and asleep, he stood and stretched. His fingertips rustled the tree branches.

Where in the world am I? Naphtali looked at the trees that enveloped him.

He chuckled. Oh, I know what this is. This must be payback for putting ice in their socks while they were sleeping. I gotta admit—dragging me to the woods while I was asleep is pretty good.

He walked through the dense wooded area, dodging tree limbs and branches, until he heard muffled voices.

Looks like I'm close.

Naphtali ducked under the branches of the last tree that held him captive. Looking around, he saw many teenagers crowding a concrete path.

Nothing looks familiar. This must be a totally different camp. How in the world did they manage to pull this off?

Naphtali moved toward the crowded walkway. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this crowd without tripping over my big feet.

He waited for the path to clear. It’s just not going to happen. This is ridiculous, he whispered, pushing his way through. Just wait till I get back, he mumbled.

Towering a foot over everyone else, he saw beyond him what looked like guys on stilts.

Must be some kind of carnival. At least it’s not a total loss. I’ll plot my revenge later, after the carnival is over.

He tensely continued, almost making it to his destination without any incidents. But at last he bumped into someone.

Excuse me, he said.

Both he and the girl stopped right in the middle of what seemed like rush-hour traffic. Oddly, no one made a fuss. The crowd went around them, mirroring the eye of a hurricane.

Oh, no problem, the girl replied.

Looking closely at the girl’s clothing, Naphtali noticed something strange. What he thought was a shiny black dress turned out to be a black garbage bag with a red sash tied around it. As many times as he had to take out the trash, he knew a garbage bag when he saw one.

Your outfit is—very original.

Thank you, said the girl, doing a three hundred sixty spin to show off her originality.

They continued in opposite directions.

That was weird.

Soon the walkway divided, creating more room. When Naphtali reached the guys on stilts, he was greeted and handed a flyer. Irritated that there was no carnival, he took the flyer and walked away.

They really shouldn’t do that to people. He sucked his teeth. Can’t stand gimmicks! What is this even about? Naphtali looked at the flyer.

Animals deserve the right to a fair and equal education. We are petitioning our local governing body to allow animals to attend elementary and secondary school. As you know, we are all animals. Let’s treat all animals equally. Join our protest at Camp Hall, the 22nd day of the month.

Naphtali read the flyer three times to make sure he was reading correctly. He snickered at the absurdity, then quickly probed his surroundings. Which way now? I’ll just keep walking. I’m sure I’ll find something that looks familiar—eventually.

After he had walked quite a distance, his feet began to ache. This is pointless. I need to just stop and ask for directions.

Naphtali circled back to a place he saw populated with market booths. He noticed a person with a mixture of gray and sandy blonde hair looking at merchandise.

Excuse me, ma’am, he said.

The person turned around.

I mean, sir. Ma’am?

The person looked at him with distain.

You know what? Never mind, he said, smiling awkwardly.

The person quickly turned away.

Okay. Let’s try this again. He surveyed his surroundings once more for anyone who could help. Soon someone approached him.

Hi. You look a little lost.

Well, yes—I’m very lost, said Naphtali.

First time at Camp Tolerance?

Camp what?

Camp Tolerance. What camp are you from?

Camp R.S., I guess.

Are you sure? Sounds like you’re asking.

Yeah, it’s Camp R.S.—Rose of Sharon.

I’ve never heard of it. But don’t worry. All are welcome here. Come with me. I’ll give you a tour.

Okay. What’s your name?

Oh, sorry. Rhea.

Cool. I’m Naphtali.

Naphtali. I like it. Is it from the old Greek language?

Not sure. It’s from the Bible, though.

Rhea stopped in her tracks. She gave Naphtali a stern look. We don’t believe in that book of hate. The god of the Bible degrades and hates women. We won’t go back to the dark days when Christian radicals forced women to leave their jobs to be in the home. Because of the Christians’ ‘Eve Laws’ it was illegal for women to be out at night. It was illegal for women to learn about women scientists, writers, doctors of the past. Because of those brainless laws, many women were treated like slaves by their husbands.

Rhea’s face emblazed as she clinched her fist and pounded on her hand with every statement.

Naphtali nervously peered into the distance.

Rhea collected herself enough to muster a smile. I better give you a list of things outlawed in this camp.

Huh? What kind of camp is this? If a camp prides itself on its tolerance, shouldn’t it tolerate everything? Definitely not going to bring it up. Don’t want her to blow up again.

They walked until they reached what looked like a library. Rhea grabbed a pamphlet off the outside door, which drew attention to the Woman of Power tattoo brazenly imprinted on her right arm.

This will tell you all you need to know, said Rhea with a satisfied grin.

Thanks.

As they made their way down the steps of the library, they heard music. Naphtali looked in the direction of where the music was coming from.

Is that a concert? he asked, looking at the gathering a few feet away.

No, it’s a wedding. We have them often on the Village Green.

Yeah?

Yep, we have at least one wedding a day, said Rhea. Would you like to see it? They’re always lively and fun.

Not really. Sure.

Rhea walked ahead of him. The green outfit and red earrings she wore reminded him of an elf. She stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble to avoid bumping into her. Her thin hand grabbed his to pull him along. It reminded him of when he was little. His mom used to hold his hand in the grocery store. He didn’t care for it then, and he certainly didn’t care for it now.

There’s a spot, up there by the tree, said Rhea, pointing.

Naphtali pulled his hand away from Rhea’s as they approached the tree. His mind wandered as he waited.

What do you think so far? asked Rhea.

It’s okay, I guess.

A look of disappointment showed on Rhea’s face.

I do like the music, though.

Me too! said Rhea. I told you weddings were lively and fun.

Lively and fun? I wouldn’t go that far.

Naphtali tried his hardest to pay attention, but his mind started wandering again.

And now you are married, a voice announced as cheers sounded through the crowd.

He looked at the woman in the white dress.

Hey, Rhea—where’s the man?

The man?

You know, the guy she’s marrying.

Like a groom? Rhea rolled her eyes and sighed. There is no groom. She is marrying herself. She loves and deeply cares for herself, so why not? Who’s to say—

Thanks for the pamphlet. I’ll see you around. Naphtali could barely hold in his laughter. His shoulders bobbed as he tittered back to the library. When he reached the library, he laughed so hard that tears rolled down his face. Suddenly he heard a strange voice.

You may think it is funny, but the reality is no laughing matter.

Naphtali stopped laughing instantly. He looked up to behold the most bizarre thing he had ever seen.

My name is Wisdom. You must be new to Camp Tolerance.

Whoa! What happened to his face? That can’t be his face—

My name is Wisdom.

Sorry. I’m Naphtali. He wanted to ask Wisdom if he were wearing some sort of mask, but he didn’t want to offend him.

His face could actually be that way.

Are you from here? Naphtali asked.

I’m originally from Camp Love and Mercy. Now I’m part of a travelling camp. We travel from place to place to seek out people who need help. Are you in need of help, Naphtali?

"I think so. I don’t know where I am. I mean, I know where I am but not where I am." That doesn’t make sense. I would really like to get out of this camp. I thought I might find a map with these pamphlets.

To which camp do you wish to go?

Camp Rose of Sharon. Have you heard of it? he asked doubtfully.

No, my young friend. I cannot say that I have.

"It’s okay. I’ve never heard of this place either. All I really need is to find a way out of here. I can figure out the rest later."

I will show you the way. But I must recommend you do not attempt to enter any camp without guidance, said Wisdom. Each camp has its own set of laws, so you must be careful of what you do and say.

Speaking of laws, what’s with the Bible and the ‘book of hate’ thing?

I will tell you about it, but not here. It is not safe.

Taking a back road, Naphtali and Wisdom walked farther into the camp.

The silence made Naphtali uncomfortable. He pondered things to talk about.

"All this talk about different camps and rules reminds me of Amish people. I learned about them in my social studies class. They live in the same country as we do, but they have different laws, dress, you know, different ways of living. Kind of like this place.

I guess I’m trying to make sense of things in my head. I don’t understand how a camp like this exists.

Wisdom nodded. There are a lot of things in life that are hard to understand. Some things are not meant for us to know fully. Or maybe it’s not the right time for us to know.

I can see that. So where are we headed?

The home of a kind old woman who is a friend to all in need.

After an hour of walking, they came to a large home. The old woman welcomed them. Naphtali was instantly reminded of his grandmother who died a year ago. His grandmother’s death had been hard for him. They had been very close.

The old woman had a huge smile on her face. She immediately ushered Naphtali to the kitchen, where she placed a dinner plate in front of him. The old woman was not content to stop feeding him until he was fat and full. The home was welcoming. It was very tidy. The smell of apple pies perfumed it. The walls of the kitchen and the hall had pictures of flowers. Flower vases crowned tables and counters. The home seemed out of place compared to the rest of the odd camp. It was refreshing.

After the monstrous meal, the old woman invited Naphtali to sit with her for tea. He didn’t know if he liked tea. But he agreed, not wanting to disappoint the old woman, who was so kind to him. She directed him to sit on a comfy sofa in a small sitting room. The old woman sat in a rocking chair next to the sofa. She began knitting while she hummed. Naphtali could hear the whistle of the teapot from the kitchen. He could also hear the muffled voice of Wisdom, who was now farther down the hall.

Now where are my manners? You’ve been here for an hour, and I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Phoenicia Woods. But everyone calls me ‘Granny P.,’ she said. I think we’ll be great friends.

I think so too. By the way, I’m Naphtali.

It’s so good to have you here, Naphtali. Now, honey, I want you to relax and rest while you are –oh, no! I forgot about the tea!

Granny P. got up quickly and darted toward the kitchen. Naphtali was surprised. He did not know a person her age could move so swiftly. A little later, Granny P. came back with a tea tray.

Honey, how many sugar lumps would you like? she asked, placing the tea tray on the table.

Naphtali wasn’t sure what to say. Granny P. gave a reassuring smile.

Would you like your tea sweet, very sweet, or not sweet at all?

Sweet is good.

Granny P. put two sugar lumps in Naphtali’s tea and handed him a spoon. He sipped tea quietly while he looked at the serene paintings on the walls.

What camp are you from, Naphtali?

Camp Rose of Sharon.

Hmmm, Rose of Sharon, Rose of Sharon, Granny P. whispered. In all my years I’ve never heard of such a camp. What brings you to Camp Tolerance?

I kind of lost my way and ended up here.

I see, said Granny P. Would you like more tea?

No, ma’am.

And how did you meet our dear friend Wisdom? she asked.

Oh, yes, ma’am. I met him at the library. He said he could help me find my way.

He sure can, said Granny P. with another reassuring smile.

A little later, Wisdom entered the sitting room.

Mind if I join you, Ms. Granny P.?

Not at all, dear.

Wisdom sat in the chair opposite Granny P.

Would you like some tea?

No, thank you, said Wisdom. Naphtali, you asked earlier about the Bible being called a ‘book of hate.’ I’m not sure how much history you know. Bear with me if you are already aware of some of the things I mention. It began two hundred years ago with the Great Famine.

The Great Famine? That's new.

"With the lack of rain came water shortages and brush fires. Whole towns were consumed. It was in those times of desperation that all nations began to cry out to God. It was a united effort. All people drew near to one another for support and prayer, forming one camp. Soon God looked down and had pity on their weak estate. He sent rain. Not only did He send physical rain, but He also sent a revival. Everyone fell under conviction and sought God diligently. They all vowed to stay united under God from that day forward.

"However, with time and prosperity, people forgot about God. There began to be disagreements within the camp. These disagreements resulted in the camp segregating into smaller camps. Camp Tolerance started as a movement to liberate those who were mistreated by society. As you probably guessed, people with the creature gene and women were mistreated in those days. Men used scriptures such as ‘Your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you’ (Genesis 3:16) and ‘Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife’ (Ephesians 5:22–23) to dominate their wives and treat them as slaves.

"To make matters worse, a legal system of laws was created to repress women called ‘The Eve Laws.’ Under this law, women were not allowed to read the Bible on their own. A man had to be present to interpret for them. They used 1 Timothy 2:14 as a basis for this law: ‘And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression.’ Out of fear of women misinterpreting