Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen. —Psalm 77:19 (niv)
I went camping with seventeen Cub Scouts last weekend. It was an experience that required a go-with-the-flow mentality, not just because of the kids, but because the person in charge approaches life very differently than I do.
Fortunately, I’d been warned in advance. So when we arrived a couple of hours late and hiked a mile through freezing woods by moonlight, that was fine. When we started cooking supper at 9:30 pm,I raised my eyebrows but shrugged my shoulders. And when the boys didn’t get to bed until midnight, I figured at least they’d sleep soundly. It wasn’t the way I’d have done it, but no one was dying, so I guess it worked.
On the second day,I had a great talk with a Jamaican dad about his ADHD son, which probably wouldn’t have happened if I’d been grousing about disorganization. I laughed for hours with two moms, entirely in Spanish, instead of being grumpy about the timing of meals. I learned about Peruvian fruit punch and where to find the best Portuguese food, when I could have been cranky about how long it took to prepare supper.
Yes, the boys were blue with cold and black with dirt. They were never tired and constantly hungry. But on Sunday morning when Stephen said, “Mom, this was better than I could have imagined!” I knew he was right.
