It was sometime after 2 A.M. when I finally zipped up the door on my one-man tent, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. Despite the summer temperatures that had been brutally scorching, often creeping past 110 degrees, the night was surprisingly cool at Foss, Oklahoma. I felt a twinge of relief as the air kissed my skin, and the sky above looked like a surreal painting, riddled with stars that winked and shimmered as if privy to some cosmic secret. The soft murmur of the lake nearby drifted into my tent, lulling me into a rum-soaked slumber that I desperately needed. This impromptu camping trip, orchestrated by my buddies Bruce and Lance, was exactly what my soul craved. There was something therapeutic about sitting under the stars, with nothing but the crackle of the campfire to punctuate our deep conversations about girls, life, and theology. We’d set up camp right by the water's edge—though, with the water levels so low, we technically pitched our tents where the lake usu...