Come dawn, we got a good look at the camp. The tents still stood and no tree branches had come down. The ground was mucky but the flowing water was gone. One end of the dining fly hunkered at ankle level, but the other remained properly overhead. The stove and coffee pot were unharmed.

We moved the stove to the tall end of the fly and started the coffee. We stowed camp chairs and rinsed cups that had been knocked to the ground. Soon we had space set up for everyone to have breakfast although we would have to stand. The boys, many damp and a bit grouchy, gathered together. No one was sick. No one was hurt. God had kept us safe.

I stood at one edge of the fly, humming as I munched a doughnut. Its one of my more peculiar habits that I try to keep under wraps in public, but this was such a good morning. That was the first time the leader caught me humming. "Carbs, coffee and good boots," I explained. "And the boys are all well." As the boys shifted around, I caught them joking, telling about the loudest clap of thunder, previous camping storms and just how wet wet can be.

We were wet, there would be tons of laundry to do and boots to stuff with newspaper, but we were all well. We had food and soon we would all be home with our families. This was definitely a day for songs of praise, ankle deep in mud.

Perilous Praise

Ankle deep in the mire,
remind me to look up
to You.
Knee deep in trouble,
encourage me
to lift my voice in praise
for what You have given.
Hip deep in life,
let me see those around me.
Help me acknowledge
their struggles,
their needs for help,
and their offers of assistance.
We are all Your children,
dealing with the lives
and challenges
that lay before us.



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