I grew up in the buckle of the Bible belt. By age six I could recite the names of the books of the Bible and quote all the key evangelistic texts. At age ten I won “best camper” award at Bible camp. Yet in spite of my achievements, my Christianity was mostly a facade reserved for Sunday morning. My head was full, but my heart was empty.

The year I turned 19 I took a job as a camp counsellor at a Bible camp. I did my best to teach the truths of God’s word, and genuinely desired my campers’ salvation. Yet at the same time I was more concerned about how I appeared to others than about truly reflecting the image of Christ. Let me explain.

Being a teenager myself, I caught the attention of some of the young ladies who came to teen camp. But one girl in particular really rocked my world. I’ll call her Elaine.

It was obvious that I had Elaine’s undivided attention. She watched every move I made. The problem was I didn’t want her attention. Elaine was part of a program that integrated kids with Down syndrome into a standard camp environment. Despite my professed faith in Christ - who loved the outcast - I wouldn’t give this girl the time of day. She was bad for my image. She embarrassed me. I managed to avoid her for most of the camp, sometimes making my evasive manoeuvres quite obvious.

At the last campfire, I listened intently as the campers shared one by one what they had experienced through the week. Then to my horror, Elaine stood up and looked directly at me, tears streaming from her eyes. I prepared to be embarrassed, expecting a public scolding for my coldness toward her. But instead she turned toward the other campers and proclaimed in a quivering voice, “Jesus died on the cross!”

Because of her speech impediment it took me a moment to process what she said. Then it hit me - hard! The truth that Jesus had died on the cross for her sin had filled Elaine’s heart and broken it. The Gospel message had changed her, in spite of my selfishness.

I had feared embarrassment, and my fears were realized. I had feared that my image would be tarnished. In fact, it was more than tarnished; it was shattered by the glory of Christ in a little girl. In my effort to preserve my self-image I had obscured the Gospel and tarnished the image of Christ in me.

Needless to say, when Elaine’s heart broke, so did mine. All the truth stored up in my head finally rushed into my heart. My self-image took a beating that day, and I couldn’t be more grateful!