Illuminations.

I went into the dark woods Tuesday night.
I have hiked these paths of Camp Roger’s woods for all or part of 37 summers and a fair amount of springs, falls, and winters. The times I have ventured into its winter-woods usually involved sledding, cross-country skiing, sliding on frozen Little Bostwick Lake, or making tracks with students in the snow.
This past Tuesday was different for me. For the last 7 years, Camp has given back to the community on the evening of Giving Tuesday by setting up hundreds of luminaries to line the way in and around main camp and along one trail into the forest. Campfires are built and lit along the path to invite the explorer to stop, reflect, read a short devotional, and spend time in prayer. At the end of the event, there are opportunities to make crafts, s’mores, eat one of Esther’s delicious homemade cookie creations, watch the tree lighting, and listen to our summer overnight director read a kids’ book aloud in front of the fireplace surrounded by little ones. Every other year, I had a commitment that night with another ministry. This year was the first time I could actually come.
I arrived about 15 minutes before it officially started. I drove past the front drive, thinking it might be closed due to snow like it is most winters, and turned around when from the busy road I glimpsed the luminaries inviting me to come in.
Quickly, I turned off my headlights and gasped in awe at how stunningly beautiful the winding driveway looked with little glimmers of light guiding me along the normally familiar way now unseen by the darkness of the night. Around the curve came walking a person wrapped in tiny white Christmas lights. If it weren’t for those glowing strands, I wouldn’t even have noticed them. More light-strand-clad staff welcomed and instructed where to go next, and I parked. I saw the woman on staff I needed to connect with about volunteering and asked her where she needed me.
“Bev, this is your first time at Illuminations, right?” she asked. When I agreed, she said, “Why don’t you take time to walk the lit trail and experience it for yourself before you help out?” How thoughtful of her, I mused. I will take her up on that.
Because I was early, there was no one else on the trail. The woods was silent, except for the natural noises of trees gently creaking, snow falling in little clumps when nudged by the wind, or tiny creatures either heading to bed or waking up for the evening. I could not get over how breathtaking this was. These woods that I have walked in, brought campout gear to sites, played games like 500 acres or the Great Color Chase, and more for all these years looked completely different. It’s holy tonight, I realized.

Holy. Set apart for and dedicated to serving God. Reflecting His character. Sacred.

I could not help but stop and gaze. I found myself involuntarily pausing and waiting, expectantly. I sensed God’s presence. Emmanuel, God with us—yes, this is Christmas Spirit. Worship bubbled up in my mind. My heart was being filled. I felt…new.
What a gift to experience something new after so many years at Camp; to encounter the holiness of God’s presence and creation in this way in the darkness of night; to connect for me, as I reflect on this two days later, some takeaways for what’s ahead. When the familiar way is hidden by the dark, look for His light to surprise me, to guide me, to show me the direction I need to go, even if I can’t see the whole way at once. Look for His people wrapped in His light; they’ll help me. When busy, stop, take time to be arrested by awe and wonder at the beauty of who God is, what He’s created, and what He is doing. Doing so might help me encounter the truth that He makes me (and all things) new.

Isaiah 43:19 “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

Revelation 21:5 “And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’”