I've put off doing this for a long time. Not because I don't have anything to say, but because I have too much.

I can't think of any one story that captures all of what Duffield means to me; more than half of my life has been formed in those woods, at the pond, around the campfire, and no one story will do such a lifetime of experience any justice. But what I do know about Duffield is that God is present in tangible ways - mist rising off the pond in the morning; in the laughter of young at heart (of all ages); in the joys of old friendships renewed and new relationships formed; in the ways in which countless people have grown into the young adults and adults that they are now. The Holy Spirit is at work in this small corner of Western New York, and that is awesome and amazing beyond belief.

If there were ever any doubt of this, one would only need to come by the camp, even if just for a few hours, to stroll the grounds and feel the peace of the place erode and erase the stresses of outside life. One would only need to sit at a campfire in the evening, listening to campers singing and discussing who God is in their lives. One would only need a small dose of the uplifting and nurturing nature of Duffield to know beyond a doubt what God is doing in this place.

Duffield reflects the story of my life: I met God, among friends and among Creation; I followed God, being led into ministry; I have been renewed for service time and time again; I have had my convictions challenged, broken down, strengthened and refined; I have met my wife; I have committed to the fullness of life - all of these things have either happened at Duffield, or because of Duffield.

That's my story, my song, my life.