breaking camp

A few years ago during our family’s annual vacation to Galveston, which we affectionately refer to as Beach Week, my cousin Austin humored us with some ocean-side entertainment. The aunts and cousins lounged in beach chairs while Austin serenaded us with a heartfelt and fervent rendition of Avalon’s “I Don’t Want to Go.” I had heard the song on the radio many times, but never like this. Austin stood on his toes with his chest rounded out and his arms positioned slightly behind him…the perfect stance for maximum projection. His eyebrows furrowed as he belted out the chorus:


I don’t want to go somewhere
If I know that you’re not there
‘Cause I know that me without you is a lie
And I don’t want to walk that road
Be a million miles from home
‘Cause my heart needs to be where you are
So I don’t want to go

True, it is a cheesy song, and if it didn’t conjure up some giggles and memories of that moment on the beach, I would reach for the radio dial the minute it came on the airwaves. But I can’t help but think of those lyrics when I read Numbers 9:15-23. The Israelites were a people who desperately wanted to be near God, so much so that they spontaneously planted and uprooted their families to follow him. They camped and broke camp, sometimes staying put for years, and sometimes for only a night.

Don’t get me wrong, I love camping. I love the smell of a tent. I love breakfast tacos in the morning and s’mores at night. I love telling stories by the fire. I love riding bikes through circles of RVs and along pine needle paths. I love crawling into a sleeping bag, worn out from the lazy heat of the day, and letting the crickets soothe me to sleep with their winged lullabies. But I also love knowing when the adventure will end and I can take a decent shower.

I’m not sure that I would be a “happy camper” if, in the middle of a cozy round of Kumbaya, the fire started moving and I had to immediately pack up my belongings, take down a tent, and walk an unknown number of miles until the fire settled again...only to have to reconstruct the tent and break in a new campsite for an indefinite period of time. I know the Israelites’ camping was not like ours; their breaking camp would be more like our moving. And I’ll tell you what. As much as I hate setting up and breaking down a tent, I would do it a hundred times before packing all of my belongings into boxes and carting them around at random.

So what can I learn from the Israelites? How did they remain obedient to the Lord when his shifting presence interrupted times of fun and leisure or times of exhaustion and deep sleep? What kind of hope kept them going?

I think the Israelites knew that there was always something better ahead of them. Maybe not at the next campground…or the one after that…but ultimately, God had a plan for them. They did not get offended when he pulled away from them; they followed him. They literally chased after the Lord. And they wasted no time in their pursuit. When the cloud moved, they moved. When the fire moved, they moved.

But even more impressive to me is the Israelites’ willingness to stay put. Sometimes your affection for the Lord is made more evident in your waiting than it is in your action. I know that I’ve been all “go, go, go” the past few days, and I do think that the Lord is calling me to take action in my life, but I also think that it is important for me – for all of us – to rest in his presence and trust that he will work his plan in his perfect time. Godly action seems to solicit more attention and encouragement because it can be seen, but godly waiting, in my humble opinion, is often a more difficult and praiseworthy task.

So for those of you on the move, keep going! Break camp and run after God! And for those of you whose clouds and fire are set before you, rejoice in the fact that God is near, and let him be enough. Trust that he will move you again when the time is right.