It Only Takes a Spark… Or Does It?

Over the weekend, I sort of went camping. It wasn’t an ideal situation. My tent needs repairs or replacement. And the past couple of years I have stayed home more to save on gas expenses. So I haven’t gone anywhere overnight for a while. I am out of practice.

I had done a little research during the week for weekend options within 500 miles. I did not really decide until Saturday morning where to go Saturday. After getting home after midnight, I decided Sunday morning to head out and probably stay overnight somewhere Sunday night since I had Monday off.

Now that I live in the south metro, I have tried to explore more south of the Twin Cities. So I set my sights on south and west. Unfortunately, most of my camping stuff is an hour north in storage. I decided a sleeping bag and one thin pad would be enough. I did think to also grab a lighter in case I wanted a campfire. And I brought a small cooler for water and pop and a water jug. I have a station wagon. So I can sleep in the car if I am careful not to fill up the car with too many things.

So I took off with what I had. I headed straight south and went a little out of the way to get a picture I failed to take a few weeks ago when I was down there. Someday I’ll share my quirky photos from commuting and traveling in one collection. That particular county road sign said “Freeborn 1”. Are we? Anyway… I digress and detour and eventually get back on the main highway telling a story. I drove along the Iowa-Minnesota border for a bit. And then I got back on the freeway headed towards South Dakota.

I got to my destination, Blue Mounds State Park, early enough to thankfully get a camping spot on a holiday weekend. The offer of a bundle of firewood sounded good. So I got that. I dropped off the wood bundle and put it mostly hidden behind the fire ring. I put the card on the camp site post to indicate the spot was taken. And then I went hiking for a few hours and saw some bison up close, behind a fence. The sign said "Warning Bison Keep Out". But I guess they can’t read.

I finished hiking before dark. I headed into town to get something to eat. I had no cooking supplies. And I had been out of bread at home for sandwiches. So I got some food I could bring back to the campsite for later.

I realized my lighter may not be able to light big chunks of wood. And my hatchet and other lighting helpers were back in storage far, far away. I got the last bottle of charcoal lighter fluid at one store. They suggested I go down the street to see if another gas station had anything resembling kindling or fire sticks or anything like that. Other than big firewood, the best they could offer was old newspapers for free. So I got pages and pages of farm implement ads in one paper.

I only got a glimpse of a great sunset as I did errands in town. Slightly disappointed, I headed back to the campground before it got completely dark. I unloaded the lighter fluid, lighter, and the newspaper. And I can’t believe it. After all that running around for a fire, my firewood has been stolen. I wasn’t exactly angry. But it was definitely disappointing. I think all I quietly said out loud was "I can’t believe it."

Within a minute a young boy came over carrying my wood bundle. He said they thought the spot was open. It is true I had no tent up. But I did have a card on the post. And this time, for a change, I had reserved a spot well before dark. I told him "Thank you". And that was about it.

I proceeded to light the fire. With a little paper and some charcoal fluid it lit easily and was probably the most successful campfire I have ever had. I am learning slowly.

Besides the food, what was the trip into town all about? There was a small flame and large chunks of wood. The situation looked nearly impossible. It was as if the logs were calling out, "Come on here. Give us a little help. Create a small step in-between with a hot small fire we can use to get going." Like the situations in yesterday’s blog, the jump from small flame to big log was just too great. It wasn’t a realistic expectation. But once I created an environment for intermediate steps, it proved to be quite doable.

Most of my camping neighbors were quiet. The campers who had taken my wood were the only vocal ones around. They weren’t obnoxious or anything. They just had loud voices in the quiet of the woods. I only heard a little bit. They discussed if a parent should call their baby boy Jack Daniels or Johnny Walker. Hopefully, they were kidding. The radio came out for just one song: Only the Good Die Young. Honestly, I am pretty sure they only played one song and then put it away.

Fortunately, I am learning to usually let some of these situations slide by. They truly may have made an honest mistake and were just trying to be resourceful. Anyway, I was able to pray blessings over them. I wished them opportunities to see God’s glory and love. And I invited angelic visitations for them that night. Perhaps I should have visited them too. But it seemed to me that letting the wood incident just die quietly was most appropriate.

They were still sleeping, or at least still in their tent, when I left in the morning. So I’m not sure what may have happened that night or in days since. I wish them well.

For a treat, the food I got in town was the traditional camping meal of pizza. I hadn’t had good pizza in quite a while. And the pizza was very good. But it did seem a little out of place. Stranger things have happened.

Without a lantern for reading, for a change I actually relaxed some by the fire and enjoyed the stars. If there hadn’t been a full campground and a chance of rain, I may have slept out under the stars. But sleeping in the car went pretty well.

The next day I asked for and mostly expected God’s favor to bring the distant bison closer. My expectation wasn’t due to me being special. But it was because it is part of God’s character to do things for his children. And the far off herd of bison came right up to me. What I didn't know is that it also happened to be on the way towards a barn. But it was still cool to see them come near the fence only at the spot where I happened to be.

What do we expect God will do for us?