A Tent Moment:

How friends created a tent moment: a sanctuary of love in the middle of life’s storm

I can probably count on two hands how many times I’ve been in a tent. And truthfully? I’ve come to terms (to my husband’s dismay) that I’m more of a fancy-white-tent kind of girl than his well-loved backpacking version. I like to stand in my tents, not sleep in them.

Anyway—last weekend, I had what I’ll forever call a tent moment (with the kind of tent I prefer, LOL).

I stood outside a massive white tent, set against a picturesque Lancaster backdrop, and hesitated for 20 minutes. It was filled with people I love, and yet I hesitated. I was the belle of this moment, and it took well over 2 years to get to this moment- lots of build-up here!

For years a dear friend had a God-inspired dream to throw us an event. Each time she asked, we turned it down saying ““not yet… maybe when the need is greater.”

Justin and I spent hours wrestling about whether an event was necessary considering there were far greater needs in the world, and would circle back to our convictions of not building “bigger barns” . We sought counsel. We processed all the nuanced angles of being on the receiving end for so long. And all the while, our friend patiently waited- reminding us that she simply wanted us to feel loved, for goodness sake! 

Eventually, we considered that in trying so hard to be selfless, we might be edging towards controlling? Maybe in saying “no”, we were unintentionally saying “no” to God’s care through others? So, we  gave a hesitant “yes” (with a small list of constraints) and she joyfully set off to plan a tent moment.  

Me and the incredible planning committee!

As the night drew near,  I carried some guilt and anxiety -about the time, the attention, the possibility it might feel like a sob story.  Friends gently loosened my grip, reminding us this was their gift.

I walked in to the tent timid, tired, and a little ashamed it was all for me. 

I walked out feeling sheltered, seen, and encouraged.

That’s what a “tent moment” is to me, It was a temporary shelter amidst chaos.

Canvas walls of care were lifted and filled with friends to give me rest before I walked back into my storm… a sisterhood of women circled me as their presence chanted “we’re still here, you’re not alone”. 

THE EVENT (watch video below!)

You have to watch this video summarizing the night!

The evening itself was stunning. Curated mocktails and a plated dinner. A flower bar, raffle baskets, and creative ways for people to keep leaning into our story. But also, the words. … oh, the words. 

First, Natalie- A friend I instantly connected with at a treatment center in Florida, both of us with babies in tow supporting our young husbands with ALS.  We quickly became each other’s confidant and cheerleader through a Voxer relationship- she understood. While this was only the 2nd time I’d seen Natalie in person (which feels unbelievable because we have shared our hardest season), her words were healing as she  encouraged my community to continue leaning into the hard. She didn’t dwell on the gory details of ALS- this restraint was a gift to me. I’m already intimately acquainted.

Then, Heather surprised us all with words from the man of hour - Justin! There was a collective hush and I clenched my fists as eyes looked around to see if this was a surprise for me too- it was! I can’t summarize his words, so I’ll just share them all as each word typed with his eyes feels so precious to me. I wept as they washed over me. His words were a gift.

“Love lives through the expression of itself to others. It cannot be coerced or manipulated, but also cannot be ignored or left dormant. Love lives in the rushing white water rapids of the river of life where dirt, filth, and algae are washed away. Where the rocks lose their sharp edges and become smooth. If love is left unattended and not expressed it will fade away and die. Love can only live in community. Some one to give it, someone to receive it. Love never fails. It never dies because in the moment it dies it ceases to be love. 

One of the hardest parts of this disease is not being able to love my wife. Oh to be clear I LOVE Lori. But love is movement. Love is action. I never really considered how much love depends on physical movement. Lori gets so little movement from me it is devastating. It's nauseating. It's been years since I have grabbed her hand or put my arm around her, let alone sleep in the same bed. I have had to rely on others for just about everything. Lori and I joke around and say that I am a lot. I can't argue that! Haha. I have had to learn to love her through others and to be OK with the movement of others as my love to her. Tonight is no different. I'm relying on each of you to love my wife. Your fellowship is priceless. Your movement takes the edges off the rocks of the mountain she is climbing. You honor us with your presence here tonight. Lori thrives in community, in case you didn't know! Thank you for suiting up and walking uphill with her. Thank you for staying with us. Someone amazing once said, "staying is the bravest thing you can do." and it's true. Lori is the most amazing woman that I know and I want to love on her a lot tonight through you all. So I am asking for lots of hugs with the beautiful lady with dark curly hair. God bless.

-Justin Oberholtzer

Phew.

I felt compelled to say thank you, because this tent moment didn’t feel like fundraising or pity. It felt like actual love. A deep exhale. A new breath.

I walked by a former coworker on my way to the front and commented how  “I can’t believe all these people are still here”, and she remarked “but even more, right?” I let that reality sink in. Yes, there are more now than when we began this uphill road 7 years ago.  My tribe is stronger, more resilient, and more faithful than I could have dreamed.

I shared how early on, someone told me to “look around, because the friends and family I see will be gone in a year or two.” She spoke from her personal experience, which terrified me. Will I have the same reality? Will my most valued treasure (people) tire and drift? 

While this fear nagged me for years, I stood up front more confident in my resilient tribe. 

I shared how experiencing this sisterhood community is actually a dream realized.

So many special moments and special people!

Before the event, someone told me, “Lori, you don’t need to go low for anyone tonight.” 

She meant: I didn’t need to prove or perform. I didn’t need to explain or share. I just needed to receive. 

Afterwards, I debriefed with Justin how the event truly felt like it was “for us”. 

I walked away from this tent moment with more than I walked in with. 

People built me a tent last week, welcomed me and others in, and let me be enough. 

Tent moments don’t stop the storm. They give us cover to regroup—borrowed strength, grace embodied, a portable sanctuary of love. And they remind us we can build the same for others.

Have you ever had a tent moment?

We all shouted a special greeting to Justin!