I can't get enough backpacking or sleeping under a canopy of stars. There are beautiful places I return to often. When I break camp it is important to leave no trace behind. Yet, every time I return to one of my favorite haunts there is evidence of my last stay -- the blackened circle of earth from past campfires.
One of the last places Sandy and I pitched our tent we got deluged. We were at Whiskey Still (isn't that a cool name) when the heavens opened. Peering through the screened flap of our tent and torrential sheets of rain, we watched a churning stream of water come out of nowhere and carry away our kindling, firewood, and anything else that would burn or float! After a couple hours, the dark, brooding skies gave way to the brightness of the sun.
In the end our story is always the same -- in this journey we need God to show up -- our fires of comfort are easily extinguished.