The girls really wanted to camp this past weekend. Plans were tossed around all week, and by Saturday morning they’d hauled out the tents, sleeping bags, and lanterns. A hundred feet from the back door, they had a little campsite and a fire going for lunch.
Farmer Jones thrives when the kids have plans like these. Give him a whole day outdoors, a fire to cook over, and a place to sit awhile, and he’s happy. I love what happens to our conversations when we sit outside together. With our screens put away, someone finishes a thought that might have been cut short indoors.
Now, when the kids camp out back, they rarely make it to morning. There’s all the excitement of setting up, and then, sometime in the middle of the night, the beds inside start to sound pretty good. The skies out here are beautiful, but with the neighbors a ways off and no streetlights, it gets dark.
Middle Miss Farmer Jones wanted the whole thing this time, a full day and night outside. She loves camping and was willing to be a little cold and a little scared to see it through. I believe the girls and their doubting big brother made a few bets. I heard something about making it to six in the morning.
After cooking dinner over the fire, roasting marshmallows, and having some pretty lovely conversation, the girls tucked into their tents. They were sure it was nearly midnight. It was seven.
By ten, our youngest had come inside for a snack and climbed into her cozy bed. Middle Miss stayed put. I imagine the dark felt a little different once her sister went in, even with her beloved miniature dachshund burrowed deep in her sleeping bag.
After I tucked the little one in, Farmer Jones turned off one of his favorite programs and said, “Well, I guess I’m sleeping out in the tent tonight.”
How sweet and tender.
He knew how much it mattered to her to make it through the night. She could stay tucked in her own tent, her face as cold as the air around her, with her little dog down by her feet and her dad close enough to hear her if she called.
I can’t tell you how attractive I found that man when he walked in this morning, holding his back after a night spent trying to get comfortable over a lump in the lawn. And there on my phone was her text.
I did it!
It’s often in ordinary moments at home that I see something of God’s care a little more clearly. I saw it last night in the quiet way Farmer Jones got up from his chair. His daughter wanted to do something that mattered to her, and he stayed close while she found out what she could do.
A night in a tent a hundred feet from the back door might sound easy-peasy to you. But I wonder what your hundred feet might be.
Maybe there’s something you’ve wanted to try for a long time, and you can already imagine the hour when the dark will feel a little bigger and your own bed will sound awfully good. I hope you give it a go. And when that hour comes, I hope you remember that the Lord is near to his children and keeps watch through the night.
I need that reminder myself this week. We have some big things ahead of us, and we can only see a little way down the road. Part of me wants to cling to what’s familiar. I’m choosing to lean on the Lord’s promise to watch over us and guide us as we take the next step.
I wonder what we’ll see when morning comes. I look forward to the confidence and blessings that will follow.
Mrs. Farmer Jones, Locovore Farm