It rained on us our first day.

We’d planned to be outside — sports on the grass, kids running off their energy in the Latvian summer air. Instead we crowded indoors, shuffled the schedule, and made do with the games that fit under a roof. Not the morning we’d drawn up. But the kids didn’t seem to mind one bit. Whatever we thought we were going to be doing, we were all ust glad to be here.

That’s worth sitting with. We didn’t bring joy to Stiki today. We found it already here — in these children, in our Latvian partners who know this place and these families far better than we do. Our job this week isn’t to carry God in like cargo. He’s been at work in Stiki long before our plane landed. We’re just joining what’s already underway.

The opening skit introduced our theme for the week — hope — and it landed with a good bit of laughter, which loosened everybody up. We’re telling the stories of David’s life to get at it, anchored in a verse that’s really a prayer: that the God of hope would fill us with joy and peace as we trust Him, so we’d overflow with hope by the Spirit’s power. I love that it’s a prayer and not a pep talk. Hope here isn’t something we manufacture or hand out. It’s given. It comes through the Holy Spirit, who was already moving in these kids before we ever said hello.

Crafts were the surprise hit of the day — they went fantastic, kids fully absorbed, our team finally settling into a rhythm. There were first-day jitters this morning, I won’t pretend otherwise. We walked in not knowing our campers’ names, unsure how the day would unfold. By afternoon you could see it shifting. People found their footing. The campers stopped being strangers.

So here’s what I’d ask you to pray with us tonight, borrowing the camp’s own verse: that the God of hope would fill these children — and our team — with joy and peace as we trust Him, and that all of us would overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Thank God for a first day that went sideways and turned out fine.

More tomorrow.

Blessings, Mark.