Wherever We Land

One of the things I’ve come to love about camping is how it reminds us just how beautiful simplicity can be. No rushing around, no distractions—just God’s creation, good company, and a crackling fire beneath the stars. On one of our recent camping trips, Snatcher and I experienced that beauty in a quiet but powerful way—through a spontaneous act of kindness that neither of us planned, but both of us felt led to do.

As our trip came to an end, we realized we had more firewood than we needed. If you’ve camped before, you know it’s always better to bring extra—you never want to be without it when the cool evenings roll in. But rather than pack it up or toss it aside, we felt prompted to simply offer it to someone who might need it.

Our neighbors at the next campsite were a lovely mother-daughter duo. We hadn’t talked much, just exchanged smiles and waves throughout the trip, but we could tell they were enjoying their special time together. Without knowing their plans or situation, Snatcher and I decided to walk over and offer them our leftover firewood. We weren’t expecting anything—just a chance to share what we had.

To our surprise, they lit up with gratitude. It turned out they had just made the decision to extend their stay at the campground, and firewood was one of the things they knew they’d need more of. They hadn’t yet gone to get any, so our offer came at the perfect time. It felt like a divine appointment—one of those moments when God aligns everything just right.

They were genuinely thankful, not only because it saved them time and money, but because the gesture came out of nowhere. And honestly, that’s what made it so meaningful. It wasn’t about planning or overhearing a need—it was just about being open, available, and willing to give.

That leftover firewood became something much more than just fuel for a campfire. It became a symbol of how small acts—when done with a kind heart—can leave a lasting impression. It reminded me that kindness doesn’t always have to be premeditated or extravagant. Sometimes, it’s as simple as asking a neighbor if they could use a little extra wood before you pack up to go.

As we drove away from the campground, I felt peace. Not just the kind that comes from a refreshing trip outdoors, but the kind that settles into your spirit when you know you’ve done good without expecting anything back. That’s the kind of warmth that lasts far beyond the fire.