I bought this bedroll for a specific backpacking trip long before I got married. I used it once or twice and just carted it around with each move since. Sometimes I get indecisive about throwing away something - could someone else use it? could I sell it? might I need it again in the next year and a half? is it something I could possibly use in Haiti down the road?
This sort of Throw is easy because the obvious answer in each case is No. It's not an expensive or valuable thing and it takes up space. It was sitting on a shelf in the garage, collecting dead crickets.
It does bring back some fun memories if I pause long enough to reflect. I got it years ago for a youth group backpacking trip in the Smoky Mountains.
I was a student as Asbury Seminary at the time - three hours south of my hometown of Shelbyville. My parents called me one September evening and said their pastor was going to be out of town over a long weekend late in October and wondered if I would be willing to preach in his place that Sunday he would be missing. I said I'd be willing, but then I asked, "Where is he going to be?"
"Oh, he's going on a backpacking trip to the Smokies with the youth of the church."
Out of my mouth came one of those sentences that literally changes the course of your life, although you have absolutely no clue at the time: "Well, I'm willing to preach, but if he needed some help with chaperoning, I'd much rather go backpacking with them."
Turns out Rev. Alan did welcome some extra help. He had 5 or 6 high school boys who were eager to spend their fall break in the Smokies. I had a couple of classes that were going to prevent me from getting there in time to start with them, but we worked out a plan for me to meet them at a particular trailhead late in the afternoon of their second day.
It was the last Friday of October when I pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead. I was about 30 minutes early and I was enjoying the sunshine as I waited for the group to appear. I was wondering who these guys were ... I figured they would have been little kids when I was last a regular attender at the church (before leaving for college).
Just minutes before I spotted my group, heavy clouds rolled in and the rain started. By the time I joined them and started down the hillside, the shower turned into a downpour and our trail into a shallow stream!
I was completely inexperienced at real backpacking and it took less than ten minutes to realize that I had been caught completely unprepared. One of the boys gave me a black trash bag to stuff my sleeping bag into since I had no waterproof bag with me. Also, I had exactly one pair of jeans with me - the soaking wet pair I was wearing! It was the end of October... in the mountains! (In the morning, I was not surprised to see the puddles were iced over!) In fact, that foam bedroll I had bought was about the only smart thing I had packed. That evening in the shelter definitely ranked in the top ten most physically miserable experiences of my life. The shelter was a roof over three wooden walls and one chain-link fence. There was a fireplace and a series of bunks which were like wide shelves. All of the firewood was soggy. Fortunately, teenage boys can be very persistent when it comes to fire - it took them 90 minutes, but ultimately we had a fire at which to dry out our soggy shoes and to finally warm our bodies.
The rest of the weekend was just as memorable - but in more positive ways. We watched a bear approach and then push on the door of an outhouse - just 60 seconds after Rev. Alan had walked out of it. Luke literally had deer eating out of his hand one morning. And we laughed constantly about the meals the Reverend had packed - they all seemed to include beans of one type or another.
When our hiking was over, we piled into the church van and Rev. Alan drove me back to where my car was parked. Just before I was ready to hop out of the van, the teens started talking about their youth group - the same youth group I had been a part of when I was a teenager. They said it was lame. They said there was no official youth pastor, just parent volunteers.
One of them piped up, "Hey, you could be our youth pastor!" To my surprise, Rev. Alan twisted around in the driver's seat, looked straight at me and said, "That would be a great idea."
And that's how I ended up the youth pastor at Shelbyville First United Methodist Church. And that's how I ended up driving back and forth to Shelbyville from seminary every weekend. And that's why when I graduated it seemed a natural fit to remain youth pastor in Shelbyville part-time and pick up a part-time pastorate in nearby Marietta. And that's where I was living (between Shelbyville and Columbus) when I got set up on a blind date with Melissa ... and so on and so on.
Lately I've found a knot sometimes forming in my stomach over exactly what the future holds as we prepare for Haiti. But God has been so good to me in the past and He has done such wonderful work "behind the scenes" through all the various twists and turns my life has taken. At this point in my life, how can I not have total faith in Him for whatever remains of my future?
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