Re-veal

The retreat went well. I got one of the two campsites on the point. I was at the smaller of the two – which doesn’t mean alot, since both of them could camp a platoon in comfort. The best part of my spot was the fact that the table faced the grill faced the fire faced the water just 20 feet away. I was content. (I was delighted!!)

As I no longer have a regular source for firewood, I stopped by a county park on the county line and picked up some downed wood. I looked for my folding saw, but Trynity still has it (along with laupers and some other pruning tools). I tried the hardware stores on my way out of town, but no luck. My pickings therefore were only sticks I could break, and one 8 foot length of 6-inch diameter, which I thought to burn Indian-style.

I arrived at the campground, chose my spot and immediately set about building a fire – I needed a good bed of coals to grill the chicken I brought. I started the fire under the grill in the fire ring. Things were so dry, it lit easily – once I overcame the constant wind off the water. Note – waterproof matches will not light from the striker on the waterproof match container. I used my lighter to light matches which I could poke into my stick teepee out of the wind.

Trynity would have been proud. Within minutes of getting it lit, I had a happy little blaze going strong. Then I set about making camp. I found a flat spot with good shade most of the day and pitched the tent, got out my other gear, and then set up the kitchen. I had neighbors on both sides, and knew they were watching me get set up as much as I was watching them watch me. The campground was otherwise full.

About the time the chicken was ready and I had almost good coals, I went and checked the grill. It wouldn’t lower closer than 8 inches to the coals, and the wind from the lake was shearing the heat off. Rolling my eyes and grumbling, I started another fire in the barbeque grill. Again, Trynity would have been impressed at how quickly I had fire, and how quickly I had coals. I was, however, rubbing a blister on my finger and thumb from repeated flicks of the lighter.

In the twilight I ate my dinner, then chugged some chocolate milk (my “indulgence”) for dessert, then sat beside the fire and stared over the lake, trying to find God. The night was hazy and imprecise, and the wind blew uncertainly like my thoughts. I couldn’t focus on anything, and I could not find God anywhere in the mix. My mind was on my friends, both absent and new, and the restlessness that was all about me. A tiny flame battered about a single stick burning in the coals, and eventually I gave up on it. On it all.

Try again tomorrow.

Saturday, I still couldnt focus. I decided that I would meet God by desperation if nothing else, and in the relative cool of the morning I plunged myself into a study of Psalms. I prayed psalms to the Lord, and eventually I found some peace. I managed to make a practical and structured study of the Psalms, and spent much time in prayer that morning. I think I received some insights, and some peace about my anxiety, about my friends.

I made breakfast of Raisin Bran and milk, and a lunch of leftover chicken with beans in tortillias. The wind was stronger, and the heat hotter, and my Bible Study ended due to the conditions. After lunch I made an effort to pick up trash around my campsite, then drove to the dock to get ice. I came back and fussed with my truck, and did some cleaning and sorting. Then I considered dinner. I decided to both try to take a swim at the beach, and to go hunting for a folding saw at the dock. Another drive. No luck. I hunted down the sherrif, also no luck on a saw. I decided against swimming, instead returning to my campsite, and riding my bike from site to site, looking for a saw or hatchet.

I went away from my neighbor at the largest pad, as he both had much company, and I was having a hard time wrestling with my WaveRunner envy.

At a full-hookup site on the hill, a man loaned me his hatchet. I came back and proceeded to hack my 8 footer into several logs. My jetboat neighbor hailed me, and brought over a couple of pieces of split wood. We introduced ourselves, chatted a bit, then I thanked him. I took the hatchet back, and that man also gave me extra wood.

God was beginning…no, *I* was beginning to see God working in my life again. Beginning to see Him helping me out, and accepting his gifts. I got a great fire going in the grill, cooked my steak, then started another great fire in the fire pit. I took my leftovers over to my neighbor’s dog, and he offered me a ride tomorrow on his waverunner.

That evening, the sky was clear, the wind cool and straight, and as the pluk of guitar reached me from my neighbors campsite, I sat watching both firelight and moon light, and the sound of the wake and the beauty of all things, and found peace.

Sunday, after my cereal, my neighbor called me over to finish off a skillet medley, and then gave me tons of bacon! I was very thankful, both to God and my neighbor, and continued my Bible Study while the wind allowed. Then I set about tidying up, then packing up. Finally around 2pm, I asked about the ride. Just a few minutes and I was in heaven. He gave me the name of his vendor, and we talked shop for awhile about the mods he made to his boat. Then I put on dry shorts, and pulled out of the slot for home.

On this trip, I found something of what I was looking for.