“SURVIVING THE FAMILY CALAMITY”

Genesis 7:6 “Noah was six hundred years old when the flood waters came on the earth. Noah and his sons and his wife and his sons’ wives entered the ark to escape the waters of the flood.”

Sometimes I ought to just leave those leadership journals sitting on the shelf! One day after reading one, I came home from my office and told my wife that the latest copy of “Preacher Today” said that every dad that was worth his salt should take his family on a camping trip. Of course my mind went immediately to that lot down the highway that rented motor homes with all the amenities. A veritable house on wheels. But the author of the article said “this family adventure” needs to be one where our creature comforts meet the rustic road. Tents, firewood, S’mores and sleeping bags. This had to be the real thing. I conceded (which was a real switch, since I always said, “my idea of camping was a Holiday Inn without an indoor pool”)..

Our children were seven and five. I made the announcement, and they got pumped. Dad in a tent. Bugs, snakes, chipmunks and sleeping on the ground. A family of four in a three man tent. I didn’t even own my own sleeping bag (still don’t). I went to the basement, pulled out Brandon and Erin’s tent (a three man tent we had purchased with green stamps), gathered up blankets, fresh fire wood, cut coat hangers to cook hot dogs and marshmallows over the fire, then stuffed a cooler full of camping food. We were ready. After we had all our gear packed in the “second car” (a 1988 Pontiac T1000 compact, two doors and four seats), off to “Red Rock Mountain, Pennsylvania” we went. The kids singing songs and me asking questions. How do you set up a tent so it doesn’t blow away? Are you really allowed to have a fire outside? What if I can’t sleep? What if we don’t fit? It must have been an interesting scene, me smiling at the kids in the rear view, all the while my city slicker’s soul squirming inside my head.

How come I didn’t come home and say, “Hey, let’s set the tent up in the family room, eat popcorn from the microwave, make milkshakes and watch the ‘Brady Bunch’ on T.V.?” They would have went for it, and I would have met the standards of full-fledged fatherhood.

I am convinced to this day that although my wife was gung-ho on this whole idea on the outside, she was laughing herself to tears on the inside. “Stephen sleeping in a tent? This should be good.”

We arrived at Red Rock, paid the customary fine (I mean fee), found our site, and unpacked. The children were already feeding the live animals peanuts when it hit me, “What if it rains?” Perish the thought. God would never subject me to a punishment like that.

After four hours of stories, S’mores, snacks and a stroll through the woods, it was time to settle in.

I know they were watching. Who? You may ask. Who was watching? You know, Eddie Bauer and Mr. Coleman. The guys on the sites next to us. Grown men with families, camping in 35-foot houses on wheels. I could just hear them saying: “Honey, look. Remember when we used to do that? Boy, am I glad those days are over!” They had to be watching. A family of four sleeping in a green-stamp tent. Well, at least we were good entertainment.

Off to bed we went. Four little people, tucked in a little red tent, wrapped up in a pile of blankets that would remind you of Joseph’s coat of many colors.

We were long since settled when it hit. The thing we feared had come upon us. First the sound of a few little splattering drops hitting the side of our shelter from the storm. Within minutes, the whole sky cut loose. I held Susan close, and she said, “Don’t worry, Honey. Everything will be all right.” After about 35 minutes of torrential downpour we felt it. The family camper had sprung a leak. No, not just a leak, our green stamp shelter had become a sponge. We did all we could to fend off Mother Nature, but there was no way out. The old “tentster” just wasn’t going to cut it. We were swamped, the blankets now weighed 35 pounds a piece, and I was facing the question that every seasoned woodsman has asked himself, “What do we do now?”

At that point in my life there was only one thing that I hated more than camping and that was “giving up.” I looked over at Susan, and gathered up my two offspring. I flipped down the rear seat of the Pontiac, grabbed the dry clothes we had left in the car, made a bed in the back and told her we would sleep in the reclining buckets. This storm wasn’t going to beat us. I was determined--no motel was going to suck up our family fun.

I’m sure we looked a bit odd. Can you picture it? Bauer and Coleman next door in their Winnabago’s watching the ball game and eating marshmallow cookies, when out of the corner of their eye they see “tentman” and his family of four sleeping in a compact.

Embarrassing? Yes. Me, quit? Never. A good challenge doesn’t destroy a true woodsman.

Are you facing a family calamity? If not, don’t worry, you will. Noah did. It is obvious that his story wasn’t all that funny, but he did survive! Why? Because he was prepared and determined!