As was mentioned in yesterday’s entry (which didn’t post until today due to internet-in-the-boonies issues), the weather introduced a chilly, wet number on the first official day of camp. Day 2 dawned sunny and cool, but by lunchtime the clouds moved in, turning things chilly again. The showers held off until supper, but we stayed happy, safe and dry beneath the pavilion.
After the meal was over, folks stayed put, talking while they waited for the rain to end and the hymn sing to begin. The sun, on the other hand, didn’t wait for anything. Not even for the rain to stop. It showed up for the hymn sing a little early, and pretty soon our side of the mountain echoed with shouts.
“A half-rainbow!”
“Everybody, look at the rainbow.”
“It’s getting bigger!”
“It’s all the way across the sky.”
“Come quick!”
“Look!”
“Look!”
“Look before it fades away!”
The cries of wonder faded with the passing of the fractured light. But a bit of magic, a touch of promise lingered all around, weaved in and out of the music, breathed hope into every heart. We sang with fervor, and our voices lingered over the words of the last song, unwilling to let go of the rainbow, determined to cling to the promises of our faith.
We lift our eyes up unto the mountains.
Where does our help come from?
Our help comes from you,
Maker of heaven, Creator of the earth.
Oh, how we need you, Lord.
You are our only hope.
You are our only prayer.
So we will wait for you to come and rescue us.
To come and give us life.
We lift our eyes up, unto the mountains.
Where does our help come from?
Come quickly, Lord Jesus! Come!
