They say there’s no rest for the weary, and apparently, no dry land for the campers either. No sooner had we touched down and went through Customs at Dulles from our whirlwind trip to Wales—still buzzing from castles, sheep, and Welsh cakes—we were back in motion, this time heading west to Ohio. Why? Our grandson was getting married, and let’s just say, when your grandchild ties the knot, the RSVP isn’t optional. But we didn’t just pack dress clothes—we packed the RV and made our first camping trip of the year to the KOA in East Sparta, Ohio. The Lord has a sense of humor, because He greeted our great adventure with a downpour so steady, Noah himself would’ve started measuring cubits again. Then we saw the sign we didn’t want to see.
The road leading to the campground was closed, signs screamed High Water, and the only way into the campground was to pray your tires could double as pontoons (a little hyperbole). Now, if that wasn’t enough excitement, we found ourselves smack in the middle of Amish country as we tried to find a place to eat. There, parked beside our muddy motorhome was a horse and buggy straight out of a history book. Service Dog Charlie stared like he’d just spotted a unicorn—ears up, nose twitching, possibly questioning all his previous assumptions about “traffic.” The campground itself had more mud than a monster truck rally, and the poor horses near the barn were up to their pasterns in it.
I mean, it was the kind of mess that makes you think twice about white sneakers and long walks. But I did meet one curious little gelding who came up for a sniff and a selfie—clearly unbothered by the swamp forming beneath him. And let’s talk about Ohio in April. Not just wet. Not just rainy. Damp and cold. The kind of bone-chilling cold that seeps right through your Sunday best. We stood outside for family pictures before the wedding, smiling through shivers like it was sunny and seventy. Spoiler: it was not. The wedding, though? Absolute perfection. Held in a beautiful old barn on a working farm, it was rustic charm meets holy matrimony.
Our grandson, the groom, beamed with that grin only love and maybe a little nerves can create. His brother stood proudly beside him as best man. Normally, shy, he nailed the toast of his brother and the stunning bride. It was a family moment for the ages—one of those snapshots in time that reminds you what life’s really about. Even Chris’ 93 year-old mother had a great time. Sure, the weather was miserable. Sure, the mud and water seeped into our shoes and socks. But in the middle of it all were memories, laughter, and love—and honestly, that’s the kind of mess I’ll take any day of the week. Besides, the best stories are the ones where everything doesn’t go quite to plan… but somehow, it all turns out just right.
