Saturday morning was a flurry of activity, as all of the would-be campers converged on Brent’s lawn. Camping equipment by the carload was sorted out to determine what was needed, what was too much, and what was what were you thinking?

Tara, Marta, Eric, Karen, and Terry all showed up on time. Brent’s dad had risen to the task, as well. Keith Lawton had done his share of backpacking as a young man and passed on that love to both Brent and Lydia, though Sharon had never been a big fan herself.

Sharon Lawton was also up and lending her expertise to the mix. She brought out a tray of muffins, granola bars, and fruit to give the campers a good boost into the day. Coffee was also served, much to the joy of a few who were dragging in the pre-dawn hours.

It was proving to be a beautiful day. The hikers would be cooped up in Brent’s father’s Chevy Suburban and Eric’s Jeep Cherokee for close to four hours before getting to Shawnee State Forest in the southernmost part of the state. But it would be a fun drive, Brent was sure of it. Well, he was almost sure of it.

The previous Wednesday’s situation wouldn’t leave Brent’s mind. He couldn’t get the mental pictures to leave. He’d tried, in a last-ditch effort, to erase his brain’s video tape, but it seemed that the more he focused on ridding himself of the images the more he enjoyed recounting them. I’m in big trouble, I think. Brent sighed as he bent down to grab a bag of various trail foods. Seeing Tara in her tight jean shorts first thing in the morning, certainly wasn’t making things any the easier.

Marta sidled up to Brent and gave him a nudge. “Ready to finish our conversation?”

“Huh? What conversation?” asked Brent with a quizzical look.

“The why are you avoiding eye contact and conversation with me conversation.”

Brent tried one last time to fend this topic off. “Seriously, Marta. You’re making a lot out of nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Marta gave him a dissatisfied look and shook her head as she started to walk away. “Guess we’ll find out this weekend.”

Brent didn’t like himself that much at the moment. Between the heavy doses of lust during the past couple of days and his keeping Marta at arm’s length, he found himself living in a pit of guilt.

Eric Hampton walked up to Brent as he approached the Suburban. “Hey, Brent. Do you want to take the lead on the drive down there?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve studied the map pretty well. It’s not a tough drive, but I think I’ll be less likely to miss a turn based on the directions I jotted down.” As long as Tara’s not in my truck, he thought.

“Sounds good. So, Tara. What’s up with her?”

Brent turned to face Eric. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we don’t really know her outside of a few comments from you and Marta.”

“Oh. Well, she’s a good gal. She’s got a good personality…”

Eric laughed.

Brent caught the meaning behind that laugh. “Yes, she’s hot. But she’s got a good personality to go with it,” he said, reigning in a laugh. “Most important, though, is that she’s not a Christian. We really want to show her God’s love over the next several days. Marta and I have been praying for her salvation for weeks.”

“So, she’s heard the Gospel; right?”

“Yeah, and for the life of me I don’t understand why she’s still being so resistant. I can’t think of why she’s still holding out.”

“I have a friend named Lee,” said Eric in a moment of reflection. “I’ve had the same frustration with him. He actually told me that he knows that he’s going to make the decision to accept Christ, but that something’s holding him back at the moment.”

“Yeah, the Enemy.”

“Exactly. But he doesn’t see it that way. He apparently thinks he’s just some sort of an epiphany away from jumping into salvation with both feet.”

“Well, if you’d pray for Tara during the course of these next four days, I’d be really appreciative.”

Eric slapped Brent on the shoulder. “You got it. Well, guess we’d better get the rest of the lawn sorted.”

Brent laughed. “Yeah. Who’da thunk we’d attempt to bring so much stuff on a hiking trip?”

Brent’s dad overheard his last comment. “Now you understand why we don’t go backpacking every weekend,” he said with a grin. “It’s a lot of work just getting ready to make it to the trailheads, let alone the hike itself.”

“I thought I had a clue,” said Brent. “Thanks for your help this morning.”

“You’re welcome,” said his dad. “I think I’ve had an opportunity to meet everybody in this group already. You’ve got some good friends.”

“Don’t I know it?”

“Okay, how about we get everybody together and I’ll teach everyone how to properly pack a backpack.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Thanks, Dad.”

7:30 A.M.

BRENT LOOKED AROUND. The backpacks were filled, the vehicles were nearly loaded, and everyone seemed genuinely excited. Even Tara was apparently enjoying the company of his friends. Karen McGlaughlin had immediately taken the opportunity, upon seeing Tara for the first time, to approach and introduce herself. She and Tara had pretty much been inseparable for the past two hours. That’s awesome, thought Brent.

It was later in the morning than he had anticipated. He had wanted to be on the road by 7 a.m., but such was life. Brent walked into the center of his yard and called out to the group.

“Hey, we’re about to hit the road, so I thought it would be a good idea if we prayed first. Everyone grab a hand.”

The other five gathered near Brent and formed a circle, each taking the hands of the person to each side. Each, that is, except Tara. It was obvious that she was out of her element and didn’t want to join in the circle. Karen coaxed her to join the ring between her and Terry Carpenter. She looked to Brent for a moment, looking very unsure.

Brent said, “Anyone want to lead?”

There was a clearing of a throat, and Eric began to pray. “Father, we come to you with thanksgiving. First, thank you that we were all able to make it. That’s a miracle in itself. Thank you for giving Karen and me the time off from our jobs that we requested. Thank you for Tara having the guts to join a bunch of strange people that she doesn’t know very well. Thank you for Mr. and Mrs. Lawton who showed such kindness through food and packing expertise. Extra blessings on them, Lord. God, I pray for each one of us today, Eric, Marta, Terry, Tara, Brent, and me; that You will go before us and keep us safe on the roads we have to travel today. I come against any enemy that would try to do us any harm over the next several days, in the name of Jesus Christ.”

At that very moment, Tara went into what sounded like a coughing fit. Everyone looked up to see Tara drop Karen’s and Terry’s hands and raise her right hand up to her mouth. She turned around, gagging, but lifting her left hand into the air behind her—index finger up—she signaled that she would be all right in a minute.

Karen approached and said, “Tara, are you all right?”

It was all Tara could do to nod her head. She crouched down and the coughing subsided. After a moment she got up and turned back to the group and said, “Sorry, everyone. I think I just choked on my own saliva.” A few in the group sniggered. “You’d think after nineteen years I’d have the swallowing thing down.” She brought her hands up and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry I messed up your praying.”

“That’s okay,” said Eric. “I only had one more thing to say. Amen.”

“Amen,” came four echoed replies.

Brent noticed that “amen” never made it to Tara’s lips. God, he prayed silently, show her who you are during this trip.