WIDE AWAKE at 3 AM, I stare at the ceiling of our tent. The hot chocolate I enjoyed around the campfire a few hours ago has hit bottom.
We are one of a dozen families camped out around the perimeter of a large field. Our tent is at the extreme opposite end of from the rest rooms. It seemed like a good idea in broad daylight.
Stepping outside the tent, I see the little light bulb that hangs on the washhouse building. In the daylight, it didn’t seemed so far away.
Getting there will be a straight shot across the field, a very dark field on this moonless night, and the longer I stand there contemplating it, the darker it seems. My thoughts mushroom with all manner of ill that could befall me, images of both man and beast.
Spotting the lantern on the table, I light it and squint from its sudden brightness, but when I hold it out to walk, it doesn’t seem very bright at all. There is only sufficient illumination for the next step.
Wishing to see more, I hold the lantern out as far in front of me as I can. Still, all I can see is that next step. If I want to see what comes after that, I need to move forward. So I do.
I take a step.
And then I take another.
And then another.
On the journey across that field, I begin to understand in a new way the psalmist’s words.
“Your Word is a lamp for my feet and a light for my path.“ – Psalm 119:105.
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This blog is 4 years old today! I launched it in 2008 with the above post “Memorial Day Campout.”
