“where are we going today, daddy?!”� the little girl smiled up at her father with excitement. their saturday night camping trips were her favorite times of the month.
“how about we try lake sherando?”� her dad replied with a tender look, “we haven’t been to a lake in a while and I know how much you love to swim.”
wow. the girl’s excitement just grew and grew as she dreamed about going to this new campsite. and with a lake! her father knew her so well, she thought with a giddy grin.
she ran to her room to add a bathing suit to her bag and thoughts about her father started rushing in. she remembered their first camping trip, two years ago, when they went to a site in west virginia and got to hike to a waterfall. she remembered a trip they took last summer, up to the appalachian trail, where her father held her so tightly, tears streaming down her face, when she saw a snake on the path. she remembered her birthday camping trip, back in january, where they settled in the mountains for a night, cuddling close to stay warm. she remembered their fourth of july trip, where she and her dad roasted marshmallows and sang campfire songs late into the night. she remembered last month, when they set up the tent in the backyard and ate mom’s pancakes for breakfast outside. and she remembered just last week, when her father took her to an overlook, and they got to watch the sunrise over the mountains, out of the warmth of their sleeping bags.
“Charis! you ready??”� her dad interrupted her thoughts from down the hallway. “ab-so-lutely!” she called back with joy in her spirit as she skipped down the hall and jumped into his arms, letting him catch her with a beaming smile on his face, as Charis’ father ran outside and started the car.
“I can’t wait!” she exclaimed, climbing into the little sedan, accidentally sitting on top of her bright pink headlamp. “I can’t wait to see what this lake is like! I can’t wait to swim with you! I brought the bathing suit you gave me for christmas!”
her father glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing the anticipation in her eyes, “I can’t wait to take you,”� he replied with a smile.
…..
the other day, as I climbed out of my own tent before the sun rose, walked the quarter mile to the dining patio in the cold morning air, and sat down at the table to start my devotions, the thought of “wow. this is my life” wouldn’t go away.
being honest, it’s a thought I have pretty often. sometimes it’s in awe that I get to see the stars so clearly every single night. sometimes it’s out of thankfulness that I’m living in community where vulnerability is welcome and hearts are encouraged. sometimes it’s out of joy to think that my only responsibility here is to know God and make Him known through the campus. and other times it’s out of tiredness, as I unzip my sleeping bag and get hit with 40 degree air at 6:30 in the morning. or it’s out of a place of longing, looking at my tent but wondering what life would be like if the tent were in Romania, and not here in Gainesville. and sometimes it’s said when I look down at the plate of food that the kitchen so faithfully provides, and I see tacos. again.
but every time I’m struck that this chilly, joyful, and challenging tent life is actually mine, the thought of “wow. this life is a gift. and it doesn’t end when we leave Gainesville” immediately follows. and that last bit sticks with me, the thought that this life of spontaneous worship nights, the life of meaningful conversations, the life of laughing till we cry, this life doesn’t have to end on december 16th, when we leave Gainesville.
when I sat down to spend time with the Lord that morning, I started by reading psalm 15. I encourage you to go read it, it’s only five verses 🙂 but it starts by saying “oh Lord, who shall sojourn in Your tent?”
naturally, that verse caught my attention pretty quickly, as I thought about my own tent, and I moved on to read the rest of the psalm, which describes characteristics of the one who is worthy to sojourn in the tent of the Lord. the following verses mention those “who walk blamelessly,” those who “do what is right,” those who “do no evil to their neighbor,” and many other qualifications to be the one who dwells in the tent of the Lord. and the psalm ends by saying “He who does these things shall never be moved.”
now as I sat there meditating on this passage, I came to the obvious conclusion, as you might have also realized by just reading that paragraph, that I don’t match any of those characteristics. I can think of times where I’ve let something come out of my mouth that isn’t kind, or where I’ve discouraged a friend, unintentionally or sometimes even on purpose, and I can easily think of hundreds of days where my life would not be described as blameless.
but even that thought, the thought of never reaching any of the standards in psalm 15, is not left without hope. because that last verse points us to one man who did meet every single one. and He did it for us.
Jesus walked a life that was blameless (1 Peter 1:19). He lived such that He did every right thing (1 Corinthians 1:30). He loved His neighbors (2 Thessalonians 2:16). and He is the foundation that will never be moved (Ephesians 2:20).
so when we look at our life and realize that we, like every other person we know, have “sinned and fallen short of the glory of God,” we also get to turn our eyes to the One who didn’t. and not only did He walk a blameless life, but He did so, for us to be “justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 3:23-24)
and back to the psalmist’s question, “who shall sojourn in the tent of the Lord?”
well, quite simply, the answer is Christ. and because of His death and resurrection, we are now grafted into His kingdom (Romans 11:17). we are not without blemish, but He calls us worthy and blameless in His sight (Ephesians 1:4). we are not righteous by our own strength, but He has imparted His righteousness on us (Philippians 3:9). we often fail to love our neighbors, but now it is Christ that can pour out of us, instead of our flesh (John 6:63). and because of what He has done for us, He is our foundation. forever. (1 Corinthians 3:11)
so who shall sojourn in the tent of the Lord? us!
like the little girl in the story, we get to go where our Father takes us, let Him hold us in the tears, let Him lead us to joy, be known by Him, be loved by Him, and we have the privilege of trusting Him to carry us, believing all the time in His protection as we go where He leads.
the girl didn’t know the details of where she was going, she didn’t know how long the drive would be, and she didn’t know her father’s agenda for the night. but she knew her father, and she knew that she was known by him, whether they camped across state borders or stayed in the backyard. and letting him be the father while she rested in excitement as his little girl was more than enough for her.
and wow. so often I think we as Christians can get so wrapped up in the doing for God that we forget to worship. we get fixated on a checklist that we forget to sit at the feet of Jesus. we choose to love the service rather than the One we are serving. and in it, we forget who we are. more importantly, we forget whose we are.
so, as we sojourn in the tent of the Lord, we get to do so by simply being His child.
this beautifully difficult tent life in Georgia has taught me a lot about being His child. and it’s not something I do or earn, but something I receive. I get to be His child – we get to be His children – by going where He would have us to go, following where He guides, and simply, but wholeheartedly trusting His provision through all of it. the Lord doesn’t require us to know the details of His plan. He simply asks us to follow. to just be. to be His daughter. to be His son. and to receive. before we go, before we do, we get to receive. abiding in the tent of His love, His grace, His care, His identity. and that’s a gift that we get to receive no matter where we are – in a cozy living room in Virginia, in a soggy tent in Gainesville, on the beach in Greece, or in a cramped car driving through town. so let’s be sojourners in His tent. no matter where our feet are.
thanks God for tenting.
“Lord let me dwell in Your tent forever!
Let me take refuge under the shelter of Your wings!”
Psalm 61:4
