Is that tears or sweat bringing water to my eyes?

The cause still remains unknown.

I spent a few hours out at Central Arkansas Youth Camp today. Brushed a girl's eyebrows with a fork and tried to make a guy laugh by attempting to sell him rocks to stick up his nose to protect him from the mosquitoes. I even made a girl sniff a stick and tickled another with a leaf.

That's just how I do things when I'm a Bounty Hunter playing the game "Underground Railroad."

My job was to make folks laugh, so my random side went nuts. I practiced my terrible accent collection--from Cogney-English, to Irish, Spanish, and even some Middle-Eastern sounds thrown in there. It was fun, but sadly, even my best stuff only brought smiles to those faces. They were a tought crowd to break!

The place was teaming with sweaty, smelly kids--and adults--but no one seemed to mind. I fit right in. That's why I still don't know if my eyes were blurry because of sweat or tears. You see, though the music didn't move me [Amazing Grace has a lot more meaning to me than these fancy contemporary Christian songs], the message did. It always does. So I know there were some tears thrown in there with the salty concoction oozing from my pores. My tear ducts hated to be left out.

"A Different Kind of Love." That's this year's theme. That was tonight's message. I pray that it sinks in, grasps those troubled hearts, wraps around their very souls, and never lets them go. I pray it transforms them, changes their lives, breaks the bondage of the past, and opens doors to the future for these children and teens who've never known the unconditional love of Christ.

What a blessing it was. I will be there tomorrow night. And the next. Oh, and the next after that, too!