Going Where Few Have Gone Before

As the frail craft slid into the river, the early morning mist covered the river surface. There was a beautiful stillness that engulfed our small canoe. We were about to enter an adventure that will never stop. The images will be kept for eternity – buried deeply in my memory.

When did this happen? It was only yesterday. It was a vacation day being used up before the big change in my life – from Pulpit to Pew. If you have been reading along with this Blog – it is the last few weeks before my retirement shift – at which time I will embark on the stuff that I always wanted to do…but never had the time.
Yesterday was the beginning keeping of a promise I made to myself. I did something that is almost impossible for a 64 year old man. I canoed on the beautiful Indian River – not far from Peterborough. I took time to be with my granddaughter Emma and her dad Bruce. I took time to be far away from the normal hurry and the normal strain of not knowing what will happen next.

We entered the Indian River toward the upper end at the Warsaw Caves. We exited at Lang Pioneer Village – 24 miles down stream. We exited after 126,720 feet of canoeing that required between 21,120 to 31,680 strokes of a paddle – (figuring 4 to 6 foot paddle strokes). Today my hands will not close properly and there are muscles in my back that I have not connected with for perhaps 40 years! I am sore – but oh am I happy.
Pure delight would be one way of describing the millions of moments as we traveled this amazing river that is so close to home. Sensory overload could be added to that description as the constantly changing scenery lumbered by the canoe. Every hundred feet, every half mile was different from the ones before. What a treasure so close by – yet so far away.

The best part….there were few people for most of the river journey and just a minimal amount of human evidence on its banks. There were only a few cottages at places close to roads and small towns. For 90% of the journey we had joined the native people of long ago that traveled this super highway of the 1700 & 1800s.

So many thoughts flooded my life yesterday as I traveled this route.

I had never been on this river before. I had no idea what was just around the bend. Only a short distance around every corner was the possibility of very deep water or extremely fast water that rocked us as we flew across the large boulders submerged below the surface. Yes there were rapids. Yes there were low hanging branches from trees that were downed by powerful storms. Yes there were many obstacles. None of them were known when we launched our small canoe in the early morning.

Was it ever like life for me. The unknown faced with little more than a prayer and the thought that it would be really good to hang on tight right now.

The canoe was our vantage point of safety and security. We placed our lives and future in a frail little craft that was a paper thin contrast to what it slid over and through. If ever I need an illustration of “faith”, yesterday has provided it. We put complete trust in something that is so frail that it could snap in two at any rapid – yet it was strong and safe. Other than stepping in and out of the canoe at water’s edge we never were wet…it protected us from everything.
There is no way to describe the feelings I have today deep down inside. Except maybe… thanking God for the time to have experienced the wonder of the day. Thanking Bruce and Emma for taking Grandpa along. And finally being very thankful for a really soft bed last night.

~ Pastor Murray Lincoln ~