Last weekend we celebrated Shanna's birthday by going out to a friend's place overnight (Shanna's my little sister with BigBrothers/BigSisters, she's in green and our friend's in purple). We slept in a tent (in the lush backyard, on grass, 25 steps from a flush toilet) and cooked over a fire (in the bbq pit).
We enjoyed the animals: goats, Joey and Angie's maimed deer, chickens and dogs. To add to our excitement, we were also visited by frogs, baby rabbits and hundreds of monarch butterflies. 
We went swimming in their pool (we were really roughing it) and watched them make cement, ok, Shanna helped a little, then left her hand print (so did Ivan).
But once again, Ivan instigated the most poignant moment of our stay. He was having a hard time sleeping in the tent, so Shanna and I took him for a walk down a path. I had forgotten the mysterious beauty of a country night. The air was crisp, the sounds naturely, the darkness intense. Then we came to the end of the path and looked up into the most beautiful expanse of star speckled sky. It brought me back to my teen years when I would go out at night on our acreage and gaze at the stars, blanketed in darkness, feeling oh so small and insignificant, yet precious all at the same time as I imagined how vast the world is, how huge God is, how tiny I am, how vulnerable, how protected. It makes you want to sing. It makes you want to dance. It makes you want to never, ever forget it.
2 comments:
That sounds like my kind of camping. You were roughing it, sort of. The sanctuary of modern coveniences were close at hand. I do remember looking at the stars at your acreage. They seem so much closer from there.
I hope you did sing!!
It sounds like you should have.
Brian's Dad's favorite song is:
"It is well with my soul."
Mine is:
"I go to the garden alone."
Either would have been perfect, right?
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