Against the Current

I always try to arrange our kayak adventures with friends such that if we are on the Catawba River, we time any upstream returns to dock such that the current is not amplified by the daily dam water flow release. When the dam is opened, the current becomes very strong, the water level rises, and those of us in the otherwise slow but steady inflatables now are slower and unsteady. Inflatables, being light and airy like marshmallow puffs, do not do super well in strong winds, or strong currents.

So the four of us were playing in the river and I was just about to warn them we had better head back upstream now, when Danielle pointed at the visibly rushing water swirling by.
"I think they opened the dam."

It was only 3 pm, and I had been told the dam is opened around 3:30.  I guess from now on I better head back at 2. Danielle and Asherel on the hard shell kayaks did fine, but Ben and I were straining like draft horses pulling a tank in our inflatables. It was slow and exhausting going. The last few hundred feet, Ben said, "I can't do it."
"You have to do it, Ben, " I warned, "You stop paddling now, you will just be swept back down the river."
We finally rounded the corner to our dock, where we saw Danielle and Asherel lying on their backs on shore, watching the birds fly overhead.

Fortunately, we had had enough fun up to that point that I think Ben still thought it was worth accompanying us that day.  But I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt it is more fun to paddle downstream than upstream. Normally the section we paddle is calm, and the current is barely noticeable,  but it cannot escape notice when the dam is opened.

As always, I think God was sending me a little reminder. There are times when despite our best preparation and organization, the dams in life open early, and we find ourselves struggling upstream against an unbearable current. The temptation is to stop paddling, stop trying, give up and cry and suck our thumb. But if we do that, we get swept back to places we are no longer supposed to be. The only hope of reaching shore is to just soldier on, ignore as best as possible the aching muscles, the growing thirst, and the rumbling stomach. And it is also not wise to watch the progress as we inch our way up the shore. It is best to keep our eyes on the goal and keep paddling as steadily as we can, however slowly. Perhaps one of the greatest discouragements is to compare our progress with that of travelers in different boats. Everyone reaches the shore at different times depending on a whole host of factors. We will reach the shore when we get there in the boat we began our journey. Wishing we were in a different boat only causes envy and despair on top of weariness. The parallel to life is hard to miss.

As we pulled into shore and with our last ounce of energy dragged our boats ashore, I looked up at the sky.
"A bald eagle!" I cried.
"Yep," said Danielle, "It sure looks like one. It has a white head."
"It's too small," said Ben.
I ignored him. I had just made it to shore and the eagle was my reward.

Jonah 2:3-6 NIV
You hurled me into the depths,
into the very heart of the seas,
and the currents swirled about me;
all your waves and breakers
swept over me. I said, 'I have been banished
from your sight;
yet I will look again
toward your holy temple.' The engulfing waters threatened me,
the deep surrounded me;
seaweed was wrapped around my head. To the roots of the mountains I sank down;
the earth beneath barred me in forever.
But you, Lord my God,
brought my life up from the pit.