"I've been praying for a way out of here for three days!"

When I was a junior in high school, my theology teacher recommended that I attend a leadership camp.

Michelle, my partner-in-crime in high school, was nominated too and we were shipped off to Clark Summit, Pa. for the first week in July.

Our first clue that something was amiss was that we were staying in a convent.

Our second clue was that there were about fifty kids in groups of five or six standing on the convent lawn and they appeared to be coordinating some sort of dance routine.

This was not a leadership camp. It was a religious leadership camp. And, presumably, it was for boys and girls with bad attitudes.

“You’re going to leave me here?!” I hissed at my parents as they got back in their car. “With these freaks!”

They didn’t listen to me.

“No, really,” I said to my parents. “Do you see these people?! They’re freaks!”

But my parents left Michelle and me with the camp supervisor in the gravel parking lot that afternoon and all three of us knew it was going to be a long week.

“Put your things inside and then join us on the lawn for a game of Red Rover,” she told us.

Prior to that weekend, I don’t think I played Red Rover since grade school - something not uncommon for the normal population.

Reluctantly, Michelle and I joined hands with some scummy kid and swung our arms half-heartedly.

“Red Rover, Red Rover - Let Jesus Come Over!” we chanted.

And kids on both teams looked at us, confused.

“That’s right!” we said, scanning the playing field. “Not coming, is he? That’s because he’s not real!”

It was a little ditty we worked up five minutes before when we were hiding inside with everyone’s suitcases.

While certainly entertaining now, that unwittingly made our Jesus camp experience exponentially more uncomfortable because we became the souls everyone wanted to save most.

Michelle ended up doing OK, but try as they may, they could not break my spirit of spite and angst.

From discussing the religious undertones of Phil Collins songs, to the rebirth party we had at 8 p.m. the second night to the prayer bonfire – I just did not give in.

But in case I have a change of heart, there’s still a chance for me – I could attend Ave Maria University’s “Picnic at the Prep.”

Not to be outdone, the Next Level Church of Matthews commemorated the launch of a new campus with a shot glass give-away.

"The glasses, which feature the church logo, an invitation card, and the words "Give Us A Shot", are designed to encourage attendance at the new campus," reads the release.

Now that's a church event I could "come over" for.