What Are You Willing to Camp Out For?

If you asked my wife this question, I think the answer would be, "Absolutely Nothing!" She is not a fan of camping. She isn't even a fan of glamping. No RV trips. No tent camping. There isn't a "camping" scenario that my wife would respond positively to. She's a city girl, and that's okay. To the contrary, I came across a story this week about a group of people that have a quick and easy answer to this question.

Duke students are already camping out for UNC basketball tickets—for a game that isn’t even until March. They’ve organized themselves into 12-person groups, set up tents, and created a system and a strategy. The rules are simple: one person must physically be present in the tent at all times for the next 43 days in order to keep their spot in line. Day and night. Classes, weekends, bad weather, exhaustion—none of it matters. Someone has to stay. All of it for a basketball game.

It’s honestly impressive. The commitment. The organization. The discipline. The willingness to suffer inconvenience for something they believe is worth it. And I don’t say that sarcastically—there’s something powerful about that level of passion. People don’t accidentally do that. That kind of commitment is intentional. It’s planned. It’s prioritized. It’s structured. It’s pursued.

What hit me, though, wasn’t the tents or the system. It was the contrast.

This morning in Iowa, the real-feel temperature was -24 degrees. People were layering clothes, warming cars, and trying to survive the cold just to function. Schools closed. People are choosing to work from home. Meanwhile, these students are already camping for a game that’s still weeks away. It may not be as cold there, but this tells me something simple but uncomfortable: comfort isn’t the issue. Priority is. People will endure discomfort when something matters enough to them.

Jesus said it plainly: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). Not where your words are. Not where your intentions are. Not where your beliefs are. Where your treasure is—your time, your energy, your attention, your sacrifice, your focus—that’s where your heart actually lives. Passion always produces pursuit. People organize their lives around what they value most.

And that raises a hard question: what do we organize our lives around when it comes to God?

Not what do we believe about Him. Not what do we post about Him. Not what we say we value. But what do we actually sacrifice for Him? What do we restructure for Him? What do we endure discomfort for? What do we pursue intentionally? What do we build systems around?

Jesus never hid the cost of following Him. He said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves, take up their cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). Daily surrender. Daily obedience. Daily discipline. Daily commitment. Not when it’s convenient. Not when life slows down. Not when schedules clear up. Daily.

One of the most powerful parts of this whole story isn’t even the tents—it’s the teams. They don’t camp alone. They don’t try to sustain it solo. They organize in groups. They rotate shifts. They cover for each other. They protect the mission together. One person has to be present at all times, but no one carries the burden alone. That’s community. That’s accountability. That’s shared commitment. Scripture says, “Two are better than one… If either of them falls down, one can help the other up” (Ecclesiastes 4:9–10). Endurance always grows better in community.

It makes me ask: who’s in my “tent group” spiritually? Who helps me stay faithful when I’m tired? Who reminds me when I drift? Who prays when I’m discouraged? Who helps carry the weight of obedience when following Jesus feels costly? Who’s guarding my faith when my discipline feels weak?

We’ll camp out for concerts. For shoes. For games. For events. For moments. For experiences. We’ll sacrifice sleep, comfort, money, and time for things that will fade in a few hours. Yet we often struggle to sacrifice for prayer. For Scripture. For obedience. For holiness. For consistency. For spiritual discipline. For deep community. For faithful surrender.

Scripture says, “Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things” (Colossians 3:2), and “Train yourself for godliness” (1 Timothy 4:7). Training implies discipline. Discipline implies structure. Structure implies sacrifice. No one accidentally becomes spiritually mature. No one drifts into deep faith. No one casually develops endurance with God. Passion always produces pursuit.

If people can organize 44 days of tents, shifts, sacrifice, discomfort, and commitment for a basketball game, what could the Church look like if we organized our lives around the Kingdom with that kind of intentionality? What would our families look like? Our prayers? Our churches? Our witness? Our obedience? Our impact?

Jesus said, “Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness” (Matthew 6:33). Not second. Not occasionally. Not casually. Not comfortably. First.

Because eternity is worth more than any ticket. And Jesus is worth more than any game.