Shelter

Five miles into the woods... on a trail that would extend 270-some more for the three boys.

We'd already gotten lost. Already had an injury. We were hot and tired and hungry.

And as we slowly climbed down the last leg of the trail to the campsite... we heard the thunder.

It clapped. The lightening flashed dimly.

We threw our packs to the ground. Pulled the tents and the tarps and the hammocks out.

But it was too late.

We heard the rain coming like an army of soldiers. Like a wall, or a wave, we were bent over the tent, almost having it completely set up. And it hit us.

By the time the tent was standing up, we were soaked down to our underwear.

Water was dripping down my neck, down my shirt. And I looked up at Liza, who was just as wet, and I started laughing.

What else was there to do?

Our tent was filled with water. Our bags were getting wet. Our shoes were squishing. No one could tell the difference between the rain and the sweat. All the grime was washed from my face.

We huddled under a small, yellow tarp with two corners tied to two trees. We held up the other corners with our heads, the boys took off their shirts, we put on hats... and we laughed. And shivered.

It was only 5:30. The rain wasn't stopping. And so we decided to grab our things and head back UP the trail to a cavern we had passed.

All I could think of was Moses. He wanted to see the glory of God and so the Lord protected him in the cleft of a mountain and covered Moses with His hand as He passed by....

Our overhang was probably fifty feet wide, thirty feet high, and twenty feet deep. The ground was covered in dry sand. And there was dry wood and boulders everywhere.

We rung out our clothes and put on dry shirts. The boys built a fire and Pat made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We dried our shoes out on the rocks around the fire, and pulled out the crank radio to try and see what the weather would be like the next day.

The sun began to set. The rain persisted. We laid down our sleeping bags and fed the fire. Two of the boys boiled water for hot chocolate, and cranked the radio again.

The only radio station that would pick up was one that was playing opera.

So the sky was black. And the rain was pattering on the leaves just outside the cavern. The fire was crackling and we were finally getting warm and dry. And as we were drifting off to sleep, the haunting sound of the opera music lifted around us.

Liza looked up and we all smiled. "I've never loved opera music so much in my life," she said. And we all agreed.

We all fell asleep then, as the radio slowly lost energy and the sound of the singing faded into the steady rain.

Words will never be able to express that moment.

A moment from a movie.

That made the whole, wet, difficult day worthwhile.

A moment that I will never forget as long as I live.

A moment, sheltered and protected in the cleft of a mountain...