I went camping for the first time. It was like this: I felt like all of humanity was keeping a big secret from me, and then, between the dewdrops hanging on the blades of grass in the morning, someone whispered it into my ear...
And I fell in love.
As someone who tends to become frightened when new experiences come around the bend, I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought about an article I'd read about bear-safe coolers...about how they can pretty much tear into anything unless it's stood the test of being dropped off a three-story building. I'd also thought about what would happen if my husband stopped breathing...and I didn't have cell phone service...and the car was out of gas...and wi-fi was laughable...and we were stranded in a forrest somewhere.
But then we drove up to the beautiful, lightning bug-lit (and mosquito-inhabited) camp ground. There were people everywhere. Again, it was like humanity was always having this huge party and I was a late-comer. I realized soon that my fears were ridiculous (happens often).
So we slack-lined and cooked our eggs on the fire, and sang late-night songs in Australian accents almost all through the night.
Then the early morning silence came. The type of silence that introduces you to yourself. It's pure Goodness, the God kind.
Now I spend my days trying to find a sliver of weekend where we can escape the city limits and meet the twilight again.
p.s. Because God is good and his grace is abundant...I am officially married to this guy.
