Camping with City Kids

16 – Noodling
Here’s a fun fact: a Chevy Suburban can fit exactly seven roadside safety barrels in the back—stacked inside each other like giant orange nesting dolls.
How do we know this? Why would we know this? Were we out there swiping barrels off the highway in the middle of the night? People at church definitely asked those questions when we bragged about it.
Here’s the real story. We were building our first pond out at the land and wanted to sink all kinds of “structures” for the fish—logs for the bass, pipes or barrels for catfish. Our dream was noodling, sticking your hand into a dark hole underwater, finding a catfish's mouth, and wrestling it to the surface without drowning. Good, clean fun.
On the way to camp, we kept passing a new highway project with hundreds of those big orange barrels. When drivers clipped them, the workers tossed the broken ones into a huge pile. One day, we finally stopped, asked the foreman, and he said, “Take all you want—we just recycle them.”
That’s how we learned seven fit in a Suburban. (For the record, those barrels also burn great—but that’s another story.)
The Takeaway
If God can give new purpose to a busted old traffic barrel, imagine what He can do with you. He delights in taking what feels broken and making it useful again. 2 Corinthians 5:17 reminds us: “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.” With Him, nothing—and no one—is wasted.
24 - Frozen Pants
Another time we went camping, it was brutally cold—snow already on the ground, three or four inches thick, and dropping to about ten degrees that night. As soon as we set up our tents, the guys dove right into the snow, throwing snowballs, rolling around, building snowmen—typical teenage chaos.
After hours of that, everyone started winding down for bed. Ryan, one of the kids, was soaking wet from head to toe. He peeled off his pants, folded them, and laid them beside him in the tent to dry out. Meanwhile, I kept a fire going, but inside the tents it was still freezing. I decided to crash in the back of the Suburban, layered in a sleeping bag with extra blankets piled on top. The cold was so sharp that sometimes you had to cover your whole head, even though it made it hard to breathe.
Around three in the morning, I woke to a knock on the back window. I opened the door, and there was Ryan, standing barefoot in the snow, shivering in nothing but a shirt and underwear. In his hands, he held what looked like a frozen log—but it was his pants, stiff as a board.
“Ohh, I’m freezing,” he muttered through chattering teeth. “I can’t stand it. My pants are frozen.”
I jumped out of my sleeping bag and let him crawl inside to warm up. I spent the rest of the night sitting by the fire while he thawed out. Poor kid about froze to death.
The Takeaway
Unpreparedness can turn discomfort into real danger. Spiritually, it works the same way—if we don’t clothe ourselves in God’s truth, the cold of this world can overwhelm us. Ephesians 6:11 says, “Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.” Preparation protects us when the temperature drops.
35 - Minus Expenses
I got a call from Emanuel one afternoon.
“Hey,” he said, “I need to work and make some money.”
“Perfect timing,” I told him. “I’ve got some land that needs clearing — brush, trees, the works. We can camp out there overnight, and I’ll pay you for the labor.”
“Sounds good,” he said.
“Alright then,” I replied. “How does ten bucks an hour sound?…” I paused and added quickly under my breath, “…minus expenses.”
He quickly replied, “Yeah, that sounds great!” I wasn’t sure he even heard that last part.
The next day, I picked him up. On the way to camp, we stopped for gas and grabbed dinner. By the time we arrived, it was late, so we just set up: I slept in the truck, and Emanuel took the tent.
The next morning, he wanted breakfast, so we drove out and ate. We finally started working around 11 a.m. — clearing brush, cutting small trees, and burning piles. After about two hours, he was hungry again. So, we broke for lunch. Back at it in the afternoon, we worked another four hours before packing up and heading home.
On the drive back, I pulled out the “ledger” that I had been keeping on my cell phone's note pad.
“Alright,” I said, “let’s do the math. You worked two hours this morning, four this afternoon — that’s six hours. Six times ten… sixty bucks.”
Emanuel nodded, satisfied.
“Minus expenses,” I added casually.
His head whipped around. “Wait… what?”
“Yeah, you know, minus the expenses,” I said, looking at my cell phone notes. “Gas, dinner last night, breakfast, lunch, snacks on the way home… let’s add this all up… carry the one… Oh! Would you look at that? You actually owe me $4.38.”
His jaw dropped. “WHAT?! Are you serious?!”
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I laughed and handed him the full sixty dollars. “Don’t worry, buddy. That was just a life lesson in business accounting.”
The Takeaway
We live in a world where nothing feels free — there are always “expenses” and hidden costs. But God’s grace doesn’t work that way. He doesn’t calculate our failures, add up our shortcomings, and subtract them from His blessings. Through Christ, He gives freely and completely. Romans 6:23 says, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gracious gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Grace isn’t earned by the hour — it’s given, no strings attached.