Floating On A River

I had a wonderful evening yesterday. A friend invited me to go kayaking with her and a couple of others. The western sky had a tatter of purple clouds on the horizon, and the setting sun outlined them with gold as we let our kayaks into the water. The experienced club members took off, moving swiftly upriver. There were several other newbies who had about as little experience as I did, so it was fun learning together. We spent the next hour and a half practicing different strokes with our oars, giggling when we bumped into each other helplessly.
To begin with, I was tentative – the thought of capsizing and being trapped under the boat, struggling to breathe would be one of my worst fears come true. Slowly I got the hang of moving forward and backward, turning around and sideways – using the paddle to manouver the boat. Every now and then though, my kayak would shoot off in an unexpected direction - I got stuck in some blackberry brambles that grew along the shore, then got caught by the leafy fingers of a weeping willow tree and finally hard-nosed a decrepit barge that had been abandoned further downstream. It was like my kayak had a mind of its own, and needed to be coaxed in the right direction, with a little encouragement from the oars :) However towards the end I found myself becoming a little more adventurous, my strokes became purposeful, I dug deep and pulled the water back, the effort tiring and pleasing at once.
Richard, our guide for the evening gave me a tip, “Keep looking as far ahead as possible” he said, “Keep your eye trained on where you want to go, so that as soon as your kayak moves out of the line you want to be headed in, you'll notice it out of the corner of your eye and can take immediate corrective action”. And it worked!!! I'd spot a plant sticking out of the water in front and head for it, and if my kayak wavered ever so little I could still get it back on track quickly!

What a trouble saving trip – you can almost see the analogy coming can't you? :) Keep your eye on God - the reason for your existence, instead of the worries that seem to surround you, and if your life goes off track ever so little you can straighten up again.

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The river was calm and we could see the bottom quite clearly through the deep green water. Mossy rocks and long sea-weedy plants clung to the river bed. We kayaked under an old old bridge...dating back to the 1800s. It had been reinforced, and you could tell from its underside where the new bridge extended the old. A couple of ducks and moorhens kept us company, drifting along with the current. We even spotted a duck with its nest and a duckling on the water.

I find that I prefer a kayak to a canoe. In a kayak, you are on the same level as the river and seem to almost become part of it. The wildlife on the shore and the river sort of accept you, as they would a big plastic yellow duck. A canoe on the other hand distances you from the river, raises the edges, sets boundaries, where you stay in and the river stays out. It makes you the viewer, and the river - the viewed. Besides you end up with as much water in the kayak as there is out of it! I was soaked and sitting in a little puddle by the end of our trip :) you can't get much closer to the river without swimming in it :)

The tiniest person out on the river last night, was a little boy who could not have been over 4 yrs old, and seemed to be swallowed up by his life jacket. He stood at the front of the canoe, facing the river, holding on to the oar while his dad rowed. He honestly believed that he was helping papa row. I loved the picture the two of them made. It reminds me of how sometimes I believe I am helping God row the boat of my life. It makes me feel in bit more in control. As though God needs my help! But graciously, like that dad on the river, he lets me hold onto the oar and move it back and forth, until I realise that I don't have to. Thankfully, I sooner or later I remember that He is in control and I can let go the oar and enjoy the ride :)
 

A House That's Lived In

I love a house that's “lived in”

with clutter here and there

a magazine left open

a jacket on a chair



A smell of something cooking

a special recipe?

An over-eager offer

of hospitality



I love a house that's “lived-in”

it seems to stand apart,

for in it is a woman

who has a loving heart. -               Anonymous



I saw that poem, framed and mounted, on the wall of a friend's house whilst visiting, and fell instantly in love with it. The dad very kindly penned it down for me on a piece of paper before I left. It captures the desire I have, of one day having a home that is hospitable, open to friends and family and strangers.

It also emphasises the importance of the role of a woman in making a house a home. I'm courting the wrath of feminists when I say this, but I believe that the woman in Proverbs 31, is being held up as a role model. Not so that we 'nomal' women work ourselves into a frenzy trying to achieve perfection, but so that when we study those verses closely we realise that that woman's life is structured on kindness, mercy, love, patience, industriousness and dignity. She is wise, and trusts in God for everything. Seems to me her conduct is very Christ-like, and isn't that what we are meant to be aiming for anyway – to learn from Jesus and show it in the way we live?

One day I'd like to have a home like that. A haven, where all are safe and happy. Where joy is a way of life. Where encouragement and kindness abound. Where love has priority. Where dreams are nourished. Where a life of adventure is kindled, and respite from the storms is found. Where prayer is the first impulse and the last resort. Where happy pets scurry and squawk. Where little feet, learn to crawl and then toddle and then run. Where little hands learn to grasp, and then draw and then scrawl and then write. Where young voices sing along with the old. Where smells of baking fill the air. Where music lightens the heart. Where the door is always open to strangers. Where God is first.