The Cliffs of Dover

 

Good morning,

I pray the day finds you well.

I’m still thinking about my canoe trip with Laurie, Holly, and Bob (Otherwise known as Neffery).

Holly threw a fit when she saw her name.

She said, "It isn't like Holly is a bad name or anything. In fact, I like the name Holly, but (And when someone says "but" you know it is coming so get ready) it isn't Jazzy enough, I want a Jazzy name."

So I will now refer to Holly as Jazmin. She better like that one, I am feeling kind of snarky this morning and I am sure she wouldn't like the next name on the list.

Ok, back to the story. 

As we canoed along the Gilbert River, our idea was to stop along the way and have a wonderful lunch. Jazmin is a fantastic cook and makes many scrumptious eats. I am an amazing eater who loves to eat many scrumptious foods, so we get along well.

After canoeing across sturgeon lake several times, going this way, and finding the entrance to The Gilbert River, I started looking forward to lunch. As we paddled and floated down the river (one of the many blessings of going with the current), we began to look for a place to land. There was only one problem: the river banks did not have a gentle slope. No, the bank of the river looked more like the Cliffs of Dover; the only real difference is they were not white. And, while they weren’t 100 feet tall, they might as well have been. There was no way any of us would get on land without getting thoroughly wet, or in my father's words, “A good dunking.”

As we paddled and floated along Neffery was getting braver and braver about making a landing. Eventually, he spotted a little inlet.

Neffery said, “This looks promising; I think we can land here.”

Jazmin responded, “No, we can’t.”

Neffery, with a quick comeback, said, “I am going to try.”

Neffery turned his kayak toward the inlet and paddled in.

The next course of events is Neffery’s account, as I didn’t get to see it firsthand. The current had floated me past the inlet.

Suddenly there was this big commotion that ended with a bunch of screaming, spiritual language, and the sound of splashing.

Eventually, Neffery came out of the inlet and said, “We can’t land here.”

Neffery was utterly soaked, discombobulated, and more than a little beside himself.”

Jazmin and Laurie, the compassionate women they are, were laughing their heads off.

I must admit I was stifling a good laugh, and only my chaplain training kept me from falling out of my canoe with laughter.

I said, “What happened?”

Neffery said, “Beaver!”

I said, “What about a Beaver?”

Neffery replied, “I fought off a killer Beaver!”

(It is a good thing we had our GPS on so we can see the fight and flight)

I said, “A killer Beaver? Did it have big nasty teeth that went gnash, gnash, gnash?”

Neffery replied, “Yes, just like that.”

I said, “You have been watching too much Monty Python, Killer Rabbit indeed.”

“What really happened?” I asked.

Neffery replied, “I fell out of the kayak and had a heck of a time getting back in. Darn Cliffs of Dover.”

We never did find a place to pull over.

I was pretty hungry by the time we finished our river trip.

Neffery was pretty hungry and wet.

We all had a great time paddling the Gilbert River, seeing many wonderous things, having fantastic conversations, and enjoying our time together. 

As we all recounted the day, we began to talk about how God was in our midst, that we could feel and sense Him during the smooth waters and even during the battle with the beaver. We talked about how our little trip was a microcosm of life.  It was easy to allow Him in during the beauty of a sunny summer day, and how we had to look a little deeper in the dunking but still see Him there as well. 

We all decided that we would make this trip again. Next time we will intentionally invite God to come with us. Not for His sake but for ours. He would be there anyway; we just need to remind ourselves that He is in the center seat of our canoe.

I just need to remind myself that if God is my co-pilot, I am sitting in the wrong seat!

Where is God sitting on your trip through life?

Something to ponder.

Blessings,

Roger