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"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (vv. 28--30)


In June of 1988, I served as a youth director at a small Congregational church in Oklahoma City. The closest independent Congregational church was one in Joplin, Missouri. Those two churches would occasionally get together for youth events. One such event was a backpacking trip through the Ouachita National Forest in southeastern Oklahoma near the Arkansas border. My group had been backpacking in Colorado the previous year. Many of the youth felt backpacking in our home state was not very adventurous, so on this trip my group consisted only of two youth and myself. The group from Joplin was small as well - two men, a teenager, and a five--year--old boy.

The plan was a fifteen--mile, three--day hike. We would leisurely hike five miles each day and set up camp for a relaxing evening under the stars. The two men from Joplin planned the trip. They had hiked the trail in January and thought it would be a great place to take our youth groups for a challenging adventure. We all met at the trailhead, loaded our gear, and started hiking at 1:00 in the afternoon. Thirty minutes later we stopped at a stream to take a break and refill our water bottles. We used iodine pills to make the water drinkable. With full water bottles, we resumed our journey.

It was a hot day. We didn't know it at the time, but temperature records were literally being broken. As we continued to hike, we noticed something that disturbed us. Every time we approached a stream indicated on our map, there was no stream to be found. Apparently, it had been very hot for a very long time.

As we continued to pass dried up streams, we began to feel more uncomfortable. One of my youth was a twelve--year--old boy named Cory. This was his first outing with the youth group. It was also his first time to go backpacking. He was not dealing well with our declining water situation. He would plop down on a boulder and say, "I quit." I tried to explain that quitting was not an option. They didn't have cell phones then. We couldn't call Rescue 911.

We decided most of the team should go on ahead. One of the adults from Joplin stayed back with me so that we could encourage Cory to keep on hiking. This man stayed just ahead of us as he scouted out the trail. Things were looking quite bleak as we were consuming our water and not finding any streams to replenish our supply. We were starting to get very hungry, but were afraid to eat because it would only make us thirsty. So we nibbled and pressed on. To complicate matters, the dehydration was affecting me in other ways. Even though we had treated the water, the overexertion and exhaustion had given me a terrible case of River Revenge, a.k.a. diarrhea. Let me assure you, the forest is a terrible place to experience such suffering.

In the midst of this, I tried to encourage Cory. I shared with him one of my favorite scriptures, Proverbs 3:5: "Trust in the Lord and do not rely on what you think you know. Lean on him and he will make your path straight." In his twelve--year--old wisdom, Cory questioned the wisdom of the passage even as it gave him hope. Little did Cory know that I was quoting the scripture to myself as much as I was to him. At the tender age of 21, I sensed death looking over our shoulders. As darkness set in, it became harder to see the markings for the trail. With all the twists and alternative pathways, I wondered at times if we were even still on the trail.

I peered at my watch using the remaining light of dusk. It was 9:00 - eight hours after we had begun the journey. Daylight waned. I was tired. I was thirsty. I was hungry. Also, I desperately needed a real bathroom. I now had less than a quarter inch of water left in my bottle. My hope was only as strong as the daylight. Would God answer the prayers Cory and I frantically prayed?

In the dimness of dusk, I saw one of God's most beautiful creations. Water. In the distance was the rest of our group - camped next to the Kiamichi River. Water! At last; beautiful, plentiful water! We had hiked nine miles, but we had found the life--giving source we sought. I threw off my gear, ran to the river, splashed myself, and filled my water bottle. I was so hungry that I ate cold stew out of the can. I was so tired I didn't mind sleeping on rocks because now it was too dark to see where to pitch a tent.

The important thing was that we were alive. We had made it! I was weary - exhausted in body and soul. But I was being revived, and it was more than the effects of the water. I knew that the only reason we had made it was because Cory and I had worshiped along the journey. We had prayed. We had quoted scripture. We had rest time with God. We had to - there were no alternatives. We needed God.

My soul was revived. I knew God was God, and I was not. God was in control, not me. I realized that was a good thing. The weary soul had received rest. We were thankful, and we continued to worship.