Monday, July 1, 2013

Beating Upstream in the Wreckage




A storm was brewing, but there is little I love more than kayaking, so I decided to take a chance. I dashed out after our church class picnic. My kayak is always in the van, with all my supplies in it, so it takes less than a half hour from the moment I formulate the thought to the moment the hull touches the Catawba River. I knew I had about an hour before the blossoming thunderheads became harbingers of death and destruction to those stupid enough to be on the water in a lightning storm.

The water was strange. It was a deep muddy brown, not its usual greenish cast. And scattered throughout the river were tree trunks, twigs, and even large patches of conglomerated plant and arboreal flotsam and jetsam floating on the current. Somewhere upstream there had been a battle within nature. The wreckage tapped against my kayak then floated swiftly downstream on the current.

At our church picnic, we had been sitting with some favorite people who are well versed in politics, original thinkers, and lovers of The Lord. We discussed where our country was headed and if there was any hope of America returning to the land that is described in the song that begins, "God Bless America". Sadly, we all felt there was no turning back. We feared a turning point had been reached and the God-bathed continent we had known in our youth was not likely to ever return.

"So where is the hope?" my husband asked.
I write because I have not lost hope, and because I believe God has gifted me to write with purpose. I believe that without God our country is doomed, and it certainly seems that the current is turning, and the consensus is growing to reject God, and His people. However, I also believe that there are some trembling hearts that could be changed, that could be convinced that in following God there is a better way. It is to those people I write.

In the last ten minutes of kayaking, the wind was rising, and I heard rumbles of the approaching storm. My husband texted me, warning me that I had little time left before the storm hit, and I better get off the water.
"Ten more minutes, then I dock," I assured him, my eye on the billowing clouds. The wreckage floating on the current bumped against me as I headed upstream and thought about my country.

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The water would have overpowered us; the current would have overwhelmed us. Our deliverer is the Lord, the Creator of heaven and earth. (Psalms 124:4, 8 NET)

I will save you that you may become a blessing. Zechariah 8:13

God Bless America- Irving Berlin

"While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land that's free,
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer. "

God Bless America,
Land that I love.
Stand beside her, and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America, My home sweet home.


-save a dog- hollowcreekfarm.org
http://www.amazon.com/Vicky-Kaseorg/e/B006XJ2DWU

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