The family was camped by a High Sierra lake for a week, with some friends. The next day, the friends were going home and we were embarking on a long trek. The trek entailed a long hike down one trail and another up a second trail to a point just ten miles from us. Since three days hard hiking would would ensue to attain the ten miles, Dad decided that Bob and I would carry a ten pound tin of food across the trackless waste and cache it at a trail crossing. Bob, though, with the invincibility of a teen, wanted to just take the tin by himself. Dad, knowing the dangers of an accident insisted I go, and that we take enough to survive a night out. Drove Bob up a wall, ’cause both myself and the extra weight would slow him down.
We climbed to the ridge overlooking the lake and hiked along it, down across a saddle, along another ridge, and suddenly, unexpectedly, found ourselves at a trail. (I had tried carrying the tin to spell Bob off, but that didn’t last a mile before the older and stronger brother took it back to speed us up.) We had turned the wrong way and gone two extra miles. Bob wanted to go one way, but I studied the map hard and insisted it was the other way. (That was the only value I added to the team.) Finally Bob agreed and we set off, soon finding the proper crossing. It was getting late, so we hurriedly buried the tin under rocks, where it stayed safe. Then, due to the lateness, we set off on a more direct route below the ridge. Bob would impatiently wait at each hill till I appeared atop the previous hill. I tried but was dragging. Finally, we stood atop the ridge high above the lake and looked down upon the lake and across it to the camp, as the sun so cruelly dipped below the horizon. We set off with all haste, but by the time we entered the forest, it was night, a cloudless, moonless dark night, darkened still more by the dense gloomy forest. We struggled, tripping, stumbling around the lake, till joy beyond joy, we saw the first glimmer of the camp. That campfire energized us and drew us the last few exhausted steps. Oh what joy it was to be welcomed by a hot cup of soup and then dinner.
As Christians, we can see that glimmer of home. Every time you meet another vibrant Christian, you get the glimmer. Whenever you help the widows and orphans in their distress, the glimmer shines bright. The foretaste of Heaven is the Holy Spirit given to us. The Bible says it is a down payment, assuring us God is good for the rest. We should check to see that we have the Holy Spirit. The check is the book of First John. There are about 25 different things to look for. Seeing them occur in your life, and grow stronger over the years is like seeing the first glimmer of that campfire and then seeing it grow stronger. A feast in the Father’s house awaits us at the end. Keep your eye on that glimmer when life has you exhausted.