Clay in the Hands

Over the past year, I have convinced my three boys to go camping/hiking and each of the three times we have had “bad luck.”  The first time we got rained out – to the point of taking the tent down in the rain at midnight and driving 6 hours through the night to get home.  The next time we had a blow out on Easter Sunday afternoon and spent 3 extra hours trying to get to the campground.  This past weekend we left after church and headed to the Guadalupe Mountains with the idea we would backpack to the top of the tallest mountain in Texas and camp.

When we checked in at the base of the mountain, the camp sites were taken on the Guadalupe Peak hike and so we could not hike the peak but rather had to do a different hike.  My youngest, who has never been to the summit was very disappointed.  But we agreed to do the other hike.  Just as we reached the campground (just after dark) it began to rain.  As we sat in the leaky tent, the boys looked at me and asked, “Why do we not have good luck when we try to camp?”  I didn’t have an answer.

But we made it through the night and had a great time overall.   The more I have thought about it, I think it is really all about the experience.  Life is made up of thousands of these experiences.  Even though each camping trip has had its problems, I would not trade anything for the time with my boys.  

The lesson I think God is teaching me is that there is no such thing as a “perfect” camping trip, just as there is no such thing as a life free of trouble.  Life does bring challenges – not all of them pleasant.  But at the end of life, when we take the good with the not so good, maybe all that really matters is the experience that comes from living a life for God.  One of the things I hope people say at my funeral is, “He understood life as well as one can, and he experienced it to the fullest.”