Unpack Camp Night 1: Rest

This is our crew at Amplify. I love student ministry. I’ve been in youth ministry for over 20 years now in Tennessee, West Virginia, Kentucky, and now North Carolina at Amplify Church.

So I’ve seen a lot.

I’ve seen powerful altar moments, students called into ministry, lives changed by Jesus… and I’ve also seen dodgeballs hit people in the face, mystery smells in church vans, and teenagers make decisions that made me question whether frontal lobes are real.

And somehow, I still love it.

I love camp. I love seeing students laugh hard, worship loud, and take real steps toward Jesus.

(Family Pic)

I’m originally from Nashville, Tennessee, and my wife, Kayla, grew up in South Carolina. We actually met at a district NYI event in East Tennessee, which feels very youth ministry: meeting your future spouse at a church event surrounded by teenagers, pizza, awkward games, and probably somebody playing acoustic guitar.

Kayla is Salvadorian, and I’m Scottish/British, which basically means our house is a beautiful mix of pupusas, Southern food, and whatever my ancestors thought boiled potatoes were supposed to be.

We have three kids: Brayden, who is 15; Ava, who is 12; and Elena, who is 6. So pray for us. We have one learning to drive soon, one in middle school, and one who still has enough energy to power a small city.

And honestly, our whole family loves food. Like, any food. If there is a table, a plate, and a reason to hang out, we’re probably in. Pupusas, shrimp and grits, tacos, barbecue, hot chicken, cereal at midnight — we’re not trying to be difficult. We’re trying to be available.

Also, my sister Gena is a pastor’s wife. She’s married to Andy, who pastors in Georgia at Marietta First Nazarene. So ministry kind of runs deep in our family, which means we have a lot of church stories, a lot of Sunday lunches, and probably too many conversations where someone says, “You could use that in a sermon.”

A few things you need to know about me: I love basketball. I’m a Kentucky Wildcats fan, which means every March I experience deep spiritual formation through hope, heartbreak, and bracket disappointment.

I love baseball, and I’m a Braves fan. I love working out, playing basketball, and church softball. But the older I get, the more my knees have started filing formal complaints. I’ll make one quick move and my knee will be like, “Dear sir, we regret to inform you that this activity has been denied.”

I love Marvel. I love Star Wars. I love dad jokes way too much. Actually, I’ll prove it:

Why did the scarecrow win an award?

Because he was outstanding in his field.

Some of you laughed. Some of you groaned. Either way, that joke did exactly what it was called to do.

And I’ll be honest: after 20 years in youth ministry, I’ve also learned that every generation has its own language. I’m trying to keep up, but y’all are making it hard.

Like, apparently now people just say “6-7” and somehow that means… something? Nothing? Everything? I don’t know. Dictionary.com even picked “6-7” as its 2025 Word of the Year, which is wild because it’s barely a word and mostly just a noise with confidence.

Then there’s “skibidi,” “Italian brain rot,” Labubu, Dubai chocolate, and whatever else the algorithm cooked up this week.

So if I accidentally say something like, “That worship song was very 6-7, no cap, skibidi sanctified,” just know I’m trying my best and someone should probably take my phone away.

Also, since we’re at camp, I feel like you should know I have experienced the full range of camp chaos.

One time at camp, some students broke the back door of the church van. Not dented it. Not scratched it. Broke it.

And then I had to explain that to my lead pastor, who is an all-business guy from Atlanta. You know those people who don’t need to yell because their silence is already terrifying? That was the conversation.

He’s looking at me like, “Kyle, how did this happen?”

And I’m standing there like, “Well, pastor… what had happened was… the students were experiencing Christian community with intensity.”

That is youth ministry right there. One minute you’re worshiping Jesus, the next minute you’re filing an insurance claim.

But honestly, I love it. I love teenagers. I love the energy, the honesty, the chaos, the inside jokes, the brain rot, and the way God can meet students in a powerful way at camp.

So tonight, I’m excited to be with you. We’re going to laugh a little, be honest, open God’s Word, and give Jesus room to speak to us.

Walk on stage carrying an overstuffed backpack.

So when following Jesus feels hard, the answer is not just “try harder.” The answer is to grow deeper in love with Him. Because when you truly love someone, obedience stops feeling like a burden and starts becoming a response.

So after Jesus gives the invitation, here’s what it looks like for us to actually respond:

Psalm 139:1–3 NIV

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.

Before you ever open up to God, God already knows what you’re carrying.

He knows the pressure you feel. He knows the insecurity you try to hide. He knows the sin you feel stuck in. He knows the shame you don’t talk about. He knows the anxiety that keeps you up at night.

And here’s what’s amazing: God fully knows you, and He still fully loves you.

But God’s love doesn’t just pat us on the back and leave us buried under the same weight. His grace meets us right where we are, and then His Spirit begins to cleanse, heal, and reshape us from the inside out.

So when Jesus says, “Come to me,” you don’t have to fake it. You don’t have to act like your backpack is lighter than it is. He already knows. And He’s still inviting you close.

You are already known by God, and you are still invited by Jesus.

Galatians 6:2 NIV

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.

Jesus gives us rest, but He also gives us each other.

Camp is not just a room full of random students who all happened to ride in church vans and eat too many snacks. This is community. This is what the family of God is supposed to look like.

And Galatians says we “fulfill the law of Christ” when we carry one another’s burdens. What is the law of Christ? Love God and love people.

That is holiness. Not just avoiding bad stuff. Not just following rules. Holiness is love made real. It is the love of Jesus shaping how we treat each other.

So if someone is carrying anxiety, we don’t shame them. We help carry it. If someone is carrying grief, we don’t ignore them. We sit with them. If someone is carrying temptation, we don’t gossip about them. We help them come back to Jesus.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is say, “I need help.” And sometimes the most Christlike thing you can do is notice someone else who is struggling and help carry the weight.

Jesus carries what we can’t, and the church helps carry what we shouldn’t carry alone.

Some of you walked into camp wondering, “Do I fit here? Does anybody notice me? Do I belong?”

Romans 15 says:

Romans 15:7 MSG

So reach out and welcome one another to God’s glory. Jesus did it; now you do it!

That means we don’t welcome people because they already look the part. We don’t welcome people because they already know all the songs, all the Bible answers, and exactly when to raise their hands in worship.

We welcome because Christ welcomed us.

And holy people should be welcoming people. Not fake welcoming. Not “you can sit here, but we’re still judging you” welcoming. Real welcome. Jesus kind of welcome.

Because holiness is not acting better than everybody else. Holiness is being filled with the love of Jesus so deeply that we move toward people with grace and truth.

Jesus welcomes us as we are, but He loves us too much to leave us as we are. That’s the beauty of grace: we are received, forgiven, cleansed, and made new.

So tonight, you belong here. Not because you have everything figured out, but because Jesus welcomes tired, messy, imperfect people. And if Jesus welcomes us, then we welcome one another.

You belong here because Jesus welcomes you — and His grace can make you new.

When we come to Jesus, it’s like Sabbath rest for our souls.

Without Him, our souls are constantly working, constantly searching, constantly trying to prove something, fix something, become something, or carry something we were never meant to carry alone.

But Jesus gives us peace and rest freely.

And as He gives us rest, we learn from Him how to live godly, humble, holy lives.

He will never burden us with religious rules just to bog us down. Jesus doesn’t call us into a heavier life of performance. He calls us to focus on Him, walk with Him, and become more like Him.

That’s what holiness is. It’s not just looking spiritual. It’s not just following rules. It’s the love of Jesus changing us from the inside out.

So what if this camp became a mountain where God gave us perspective?

What if we stopped seeing ourselves as stuck, hopeless, anxious, ashamed, or alone?

What if we heard Jesus say, “Come to me,” and we actually took a step?

Because growth happens when we get perspective and take action.

For some of us, that action step is being honest with God.

For some of us, it’s asking a leader to pray with us.

For some of us, it’s laying down shame.

For some of us, it’s confessing sin.

For some of us, it’s forgiving someone.

For some of us, it’s saying, “Jesus, I don’t just want a camp moment. I want to walk with You when I go home.”

What if we all put on the yoke of Jesus and experienced His peace daily?

We would have more patience with people because we would understand how patient Jesus is with us.

We would love others unconditionally, even when they hurt us, because that’s what Jesus does.

We would help carry one another’s burdens instead of pretending everybody is fine.

We would welcome one another because Christ has welcomed us.

We would live just like Jesus and be a church that shines His light and hope in our community because He is making us more like Him every day.

So students, don’t just come to camp and leave with memories.

Leave with perspective.

Leave having taken a step toward Jesus.

Leave knowing you are fully known by God, deeply loved by God, welcomed by Jesus, and invited into His rest.

May we find that rest.

May we live from that rest.

And may we become the kind of people who help others find that rest in Jesus too.

*Invitation*

As the band plays, I want to invite you to respond.

Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

So tonight, coming to the altar is simply a way of saying, “Jesus, I’m coming to You.”

Maybe you’re carrying anxiety. Maybe you’re carrying shame. Maybe you’re carrying pressure to be enough. Maybe you’re tired of pretending. Maybe you’re ready to stop managing your life without Jesus and actually surrender.

As the band leads, don’t wait for someone else to move first. If Jesus is inviting you, come.

Come lay it down. Come receive His rest. Come let Him forgive you, cleanse you, heal you, and make you new.

Let’s pray.

Jesus, we come to You tonight because You invited us.

You know every student in this room. You know what we’re carrying. You know the things we’ve said out loud and the things we’ve never told anybody.

And still, You welcome us.

So we bring You our burdens. We bring You our sin. We bring You our shame. We bring You our stress, our fear, our exhaustion, and our need to be in control.

Give rest to tired souls tonight.

Forgive us where we need forgiveness. Cleanse us where we need cleansing. Heal what is broken. Free us from what has been holding us.

Holy Spirit, fill us with the love of Jesus. Make us holy, not just on the outside, but all the way through.

Teach us to walk with You. Teach us to live from Your peace. Teach us to carry one another’s burdens and welcome one another the way Christ welcomed us.

And as students come to this altar, meet them here.

Let this be more than a camp moment. Let this be a real step toward You.

We lay down what we’ve been carrying. We receive the rest You give. And we say yes to Your way, Your love, and Your life.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

Related Media

Related Sermons

Earn an accredited degree from Redemption Seminary with Logos.