Girls Camp

I don't want to go into detail about everything I did while I was at Girls' Camp this week, but I would like you all to know that I have never experienced Zion like I did the final night I was there.
Zion is a word we use to describe the perfect place. A place where everyone is of one heart and one mind. Where everyone dwells in righteousness, and where there is no poor among the people. By poor, we mean spiritually poor. Those who do not feel the love and light of Christ in their lives.
For nearly the entirety of camp, I felt a little spiritually poor. I felt like none of the girls liked me because I complained and was negative and wasn't funny or exciting or nice or anything. I felt like no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make anyone around me feel good about themselves. I wanted to be this person who was always positive and always happy and always optimistic, but I always seemed to be complaining or arguing or stressing. I felt like the girls were noticing my terrible behavior, and that I was ruining camp for everyone. I felt guilty and frustrated. Satan's way of getting to me is through my own guilt. He makes me feel insignificant. I couldn't help people, I only hurt them. That was Satan's message to me. And the other girls felt it, too. I was not the only one who was spiritually poor, I think. I think we all were having trouble feeling the spirit amidst the teenage drama, the spiders, and the extreme heat and lack of sleep. I don't think any of us were getting enough out of the camp experience.
All those feelings changed the night we bore our testimonies. I bore mine somewhere in the middle. I told them about how I was going through a rough time. A time of change, separation, and new challenges. I told them how I felt poor and that the good light of Christ was leaving me. But as I bore my testimony, there was this witness in my heart that all I had learned at that camp was true. Christ was not only alive and breathing, but he loved ME. And I could change people. I wasn't insignificant. Yes, I was imperfect, but I was also so important. And God was pleased with what I had done. I looked around at those girls, and I could see in their eyes that they all felt the Spirit testify to them that Christ was our Savior.
Do you remember Mrs. Duct Tape? Well, she came to camp. At first when I found out she was going, I thought, "Oh, GREAT!! ANOTHER thing to worry about!!" And I went thorughout camp with that attitude. I was angry with her for things she probably could not help at this point in her life. And I held grudges against her old actions that mean nothing now. I felt the same way at the start of testimony meeting. But as I sat down after bearing my testimony, she was the first person to give me a huge hug. "I love you so much, you have no idea," she whispered. Later she told me that she was so jealous of how well I understood and followed the gospel. How I was such a good example. She huged me and touched me and kissed my hand. As I watched her smile at me, I suddenly saw a truly amazing thing. I saw her in white. I saw her in heaven, smiling, in the presence of her Heavenly Father. I realized that she, despite her faults, was a daughter of God. She loved him, and he loves her. Why did I hate her so when it was God that created her?
I felt Zion. I felt like everyone was of one heart and one mind. For the rest of that night, as well as the next day, everyone seemed to just be filled with love for one another. There was no complaining, no fighting, and there was peace. A miracle happened that night. A miracle that I hope will last. I love those girls I met and remet out there, and I love the leaders who taught us so well, and most of all I love my Heavenly Father, who gave me such a wonderful experience.