Chop Point for me has always been the place where things come back. Summer after summer, no matter what happens during the year, something drags me back. I listen to stories, I try to find connections, I try to figure out just how exactly people end up at Chop Point, but four years later, I’m still coming up empty. Some say it’s fate but I refuse to believe that it’s entirely coincidental that so many incredible people happen to be in the same place at the same time. No, there’s something here, something that makes sure anybody who needs to be here ends up here at just the right time. Feeling the presence of God has always been difficult for me, but this year I felt it in just about every interaction I had during my time at Chop Point — from crazy sailing adventures to drinking iced coffee with my friends to singing songs during chapel to just sitting on the dock and watching the river. While I was at camp this year I had a conversation with one of my counselors about times our souls felt at peace and of the dozens of stories we both told, the majority of them had one thing in common: they happened at Chop Point. There is undoubtedly something special that happens to you while you drive down the two miles stretch of road that leads here that continually draws us here no matter how long we’re away. Even now that I left, I’m sure I’ll be back soon. I don’t think my story with Chop Point has ended quite yet, but until then my soul will remain at peace knowing that at some point, the universe will figure out a way to bring me back home.