Sometimes, life is going along, just minding its business, and suddenly, we see a glimpse of the Hand of God. Something like that, in a very small way, happened to me last week.
Some friends and family members decided to tube a section of the Potomac River near Harpers Ferry. This was not our first time down this section of river. In fact, it was our third time. But what made this trip a bit different was that we had many of the same people from our disastrous first trip, where nearly every one of the fifteen people in our group who braved the rapids suffered some mishap.
That first trip had been analyzed repeatedly, and many mistakes corrected. Our second trip had been quite pleasant, though small; so we had invited some of the others back for a third try.
The section of the river that we chose is a very popular one for tubing. Many professional adventure outfitters bring clients to tube there. We, however, own our own tubes (which we often use to float down the nearby, sedate, Shenandoah), so we were going at it ourselves, alone, without a trained professional to give us pointers.
With joyful expectation, we set out.
The professional adventure outfitters give their clients tubes and life jackets…and nothing else. (Sometimes, they have helmets if the water level is high and the rapids more pronounced.) We, on the other hand, have paddles. makes it easier to get around and to stay together…sometimes.
So we set off down the river. The first set of rapids (though they hardly deserve the name) separated us a bit, and I found myself paddling furiously to try to stay where I thought I needed to be.
The longer we went on, the more I found myself struggling, paddling, stressing, fighting to be where I thought I wanted to go lest I never get there.
As I was paddling, my muscles tense, concerned about getting down the next stretch of river, I suddenly remembered something:
Those on the river with the adventure outfitters? They didn’t even have paddles.
And suddenly, I realized that I didn’t have to struggle so hard. If I did nothing, I would still end up where I wanted to go.
And it struck me…
How much of my life is like this?
How often am I paddling with all my might when, were I just to relax and trust, God would carry me there?
I saw the river and its current as a beautiful analogy for God’s Will, carrying me along, not needing me to make such an effort to accomplish what His Will would accomplish for me anyway, if I just trusted Him.
The thought was both inspiring and humbling.
Now, every analogy eventually breaks down. Mine broke down when I became stranded on a rock and had to thrash around like a beached whale or an upside-down turtle for some time before I finally freed myself.
Doing nothing there would have meant that I stayed in the middle of the Potomac, indefinitely.
I tried to think of a way to fit this in with my God analogy and eventually gave up. The gentle way the river carried me along reminded me of God, but it was not God. And I could actually get stuck on the Potomac if I wasn’t at least a bit cautious.
But the main point is still good. I don’t think we can really get stuck with God.
We may feel we are stuck. We might feel we need to thrash around spiritually, trying to get off our turtle shells, but I think God is carrying us, even then…even if we don’t see it or feel it.
Isaiah 66:12 mentions “peace … like a river.” It is a concept I have rather liked, even since a Bible study class I took once put forth the idea that if peace is like a river, then it is ever flowing around you, fresh peace flowing by every day.
This idea goes nicely with the idea that we can rest in God and let His current cherish us and carry us along, trusting Him to get us where we need to go, even if the way is not always straight.
So next time you are stressing and struggling, you might pause and ask yourself: Am I paddling too hard?
If you let go of the struggle and let God’s peaceful currents carry you, might you still get there without the stress?
It’s worth contemplating.
Had a similar experience learning to ride horses. I would get obsessed with trying to keep them walking a perfectly straight line it would frustrate both the horse and me.
When I finally realized it was more about going in the right general direction, and that the horse would take care of itself to step right, everything worked out and we were able to gallop places.
It really is about doing just a bit and then having faith in the rest.
Amen, sister. Been singing and praying the 23rd Psalm continuously this last week.