I have a bunch of topics for this post. There is a list. You may see some of them. But as I was going through a pile of notes today, I found a to-do list with “We need campfires” written haphazardly on the page.
I wrote it while in the middle of a conversation with a friend. We were talking about how to help the lessons of a recent trip resonate through the lives of the 30 teens and adults who traveled together. He talked about the conversations by the campfire during the trip. And I wrote, “We need campfires” with Sharpie on my list.
And then went on about my business. And busyness.
A campfire isn’t busy. It isn’t business. It’s a slow thoughtful place, where marshmallows and chocolate collide. Where stories emerge after the fireflies and stars. Where things seem more possible, more plausible.
It’s where Paul can talk with Timothy.
It’s where Esther comes alive.
It’s where Jesus had conversations with people while on pilgrimage to Jerusalem.
Although it is possible to rush through a campfire while fighting mosquitoes or rain or bedtime for children, the very best campfires are deliberately protracted dalliance.
I don’t have a campfire scheduled. But I’m realizing the need. So if you have one with an empty log for sitting and a couple marshmallows for toasting, let me know. We’ll bring some stories and come over.