Clarity

Rain blew the Nashua into a puffy ribbon.   Although the river was high from the previous week's showers, our trip was scheduled and we would go.  Beth and I sat opposite each other, with my sons then aged two and four, in between.  Most of the group shared canoes.   Our leaders, the only experienced canoeists, each took their own vessel.  We launched off into the unknown believing we would arrive at the rendezvous tired, but happy.

We skimmed along the center of the river when suddenly the Nashua began to lather. Our fears rose like the river, but the experienced pilots shouted a whoop and took off down stream as fast as they could go!  Confused, the rest of us navigated towards the shore.  Not knowing what to do, we decided to stay close and continue toward the pick-up point; after all the trip was only supposed to be two hours long and we had already done one hour, so we were halfway home.

Over the next five hours we landlubbers struggled to stay afloat.  We saw water snakes, were heaved by the class three rapids and capsized repeatedly.  After a small drop in the river my canoe flipped and Gabriel was pulled under and driven past my reach.  Miraculously one of the two men that had stayed with us jumped out of his canoe and rescued him.  Once Gabriel was safe in my arms, I said, "Enough!"  I told the group I was taking my sons and leaving the river.  As Beth and I steered our vessel toward that shore everyone else followed.  We parked our canoes on the sand and climbed the 100 foot ravine toward the highway.  That was my first and last trip on the Nashua.

In thinking about that day I remember the intense clarity with which I knew it was time to get off the river.  We had been committed to the plan.  We persevered and battled the element, but when the water took Gabriel the spell was broken.  We realized the trip, and the canoes were not worth a life.  That small moment shed light on the situation and we changed course.

Every life has illuminating moments.  They clear the muddy waters and show a change of course is due.  Each ray, clearing up confusion, is sent from God.  The thing is that light is stalking us at every turn.   If we take our eyes off the rapids, let go of the paddles and earnestly look there is brilliance all around.  The first words spoken in our universe were, "Let there be light." Genesis 1: 3.  And God has not stopped pouring light into this darkness.  Above the clouds, in spite of fog and beyond the night the sun shines.

"God is light." (1 John 1:6)  He bathes us with His light.  In tremulous storms, He sends fire bolts to clear our troubles.  On the darkest ocean, waves swirl into luminous arches.  He lightens confusion and brightens our path.  If we look at Him, our choices loom clear and our way glows brilliantly.  But we must choose to look in His direction.  We must turn our eyes toward the Son.