The stuff memories are made of

Jake and I decided at about 10 am last Saturday that it would be fun to take Judah camping. We had been wanting to go for awhile and it seemed like a nice day to do it, so we started packing. We were excited to finally use our camping gear that we had shipped here about a year ago. While Judah was napping we threw all the necessities together. Of course, Jake couldn't help but still be his thorough self, checking our stove for gas, dividing the weight up evenly, making sure we had our first-aid kit, etc. But when all was said and done, we were ready to go. We were ready for an adventure.

It's funny how you imagine things in your head and when you actually do them, they often turn out quite different, especially with a six-month old. We drove alongside a beautiful river on a bumpy dirt road to Manabao, hoping to make it to our destination without really having to backpack. In my mind I figured we could just drive up the mountain to camp. Well, we took one look at the river-crossing and steep incline just following the river and knew that our little Rav4, (not 4 x 4) was not going to even make it across the river. So, we parked at a nice woman's house, thanks Merecedes, sat down a minute to talk with her, and headed off, backpacks and all. You can tell by the picture that we were quite loaded down with stuff for just one night, Jake carried Judah in a front pack.

Walking up the mountain, we both asked ourselves, "Why are we putting ourselves through this on our day off?!" It was miserably hot and the trail seemed to be a steady incline for about an hour. Finally, in the midst of Judah crying, I grabbed Jake's hand and started singing worship music realizing that this is character building time and we couldn't give up now.

We ended up about half way to our destination and wanted to just call it quits, but we pressed on. After eating some guayabas and feeding Judah, we had all regained our strength to continue.

I'll fast forward a little... we finally set up camp after making it to the top of the mountain, Judah got to have some freedom and play in the tent while we made dinner and we had a really nice evening, then the fun began.

We made it until about 7:30 pm before Judah was ready for bed and we had nothing else to do but go to bed too. We knew it might be a long night. Although we had planned ahead and packed everything, we only had one mummy sleeping bag and a small blanket between all three of us, plus we were sleeping in Jake's teeny-tiny backpacking tent. So, needless to say, it was a long night of pulling on covers, consoling Judah every two hours (who woke up everytime we moved) and wondering again why we were doing this. It started raining in the middle of the night as well, which although we stayed dry, didn't really help matters since all of our things were outside. In the morning we were thankful the night had ended and decided to at least buy a bigger tent before we would do this again.

Leaving the mountain that morning after the rain subsided was a very peaceful feeling. We had conquered backpacking with our six-month old, we had not given up although we had wanted to, we made it through a very difficult night and we were better because of it. It's funny how hard something can be in the moment and how later you really are glad you did it, at least to tell the story.

A few days later I read this verse that seemed to fit this trip:

Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you. Psalm 25:4-5

Despite the setbacks and difficulties along life's journey, may I at least be on the right path and not back down! We have to continue no matter what, knowing that someday we will look back and be glad we did.