In the River

There was a dead body along the very same section of the very same river we kayaked on the very same day we were there. The body was found, reported the newspaper, by recreational kayakers.

I put the paper down. I had just returned from that part of the Catawba. I had been largely alone for the hour I kayaked upriver. Funny, as I had been paddling, thinking how quiet and peaceful it all was, how wonderfully still and isolated, it had also flashed through my mind that it would be a good place to stash a dead body.

This body appeared to be there because it wanted to be. The corpse had been involved in a hit and run accident earlier in the day, and had been seen leaving the scene of the crime. Of course, at that point it had not yet been a corpse. An autopsy would be performed to determine cause of death,but my guess was the conscience of the man had gotten a hold of him,and he could not live with what he had done. Who knows what other demons were torturing his soul that made him throw himself in the river, the place of refuge where I go not to die, but to live!

I had gone to the river all alone, unable to entice my family to go with me. I am working on getting the e-book ready for publication as a paperback, and also working on my next book. I needed a break. So I blasted songs from my new Rodgers and Hammerstein collection on my portable CD and sang along as I drove to the river.

Once I was out of earshot of the few kayakers I saw on the river (were they the ones that discovered the corpse?), I began to sing. Softly at first, furtively glancing around to make sure that no one but the crows were listening and then began belting out such classics as "Can't help lovin that man of mine," and "We kiss in the shadows". I glided along, feeling my mood rise with each dip of the oar. I could almost see Asherel rolling her eyes and wincing as I screeched to the high notes. I saw a bald eagle fly right over me, and no one told me, "That's not a bald eagle; it's too small."

Once home, refreshed and re-spirited, I thought about the poor corpse. Nothing is ever so bad that it is worth sullying the waters of such a beautiful river with something so tragic as a suicide. There is always the potential for change, the chance for redemption, the promise of tomorrow. It is the message of the Gospel- we are all broken, we are all headed for destruction, but it doesn't have to be the end of the story. Our loving God is waiting at the end of the river, and He is probably even singing along quietly with us.

Isaiah 66:12 NIV

For this is what the Lord says:
"I will extend peace to her like a river,
and the wealth of nations like a flooding stream;

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Bringing the Mountain to Me

If we can't go to the mountain, we bring the mountain to us.
If this is not a saying by Confucious, it should be.
We were all excited about the snow which was falling steadily but then it petered out shortly after lunch and there was not quite enough to ski on the streets. The roads were hazardous, so I couldn't drive to the golf course with its ski resort- like hills. We were stuck with just our yard of snow. The snow was a good 3 or 4 inches deep, which was plenty on the grass to cross country ski, or even snowboard.  Our "mountain" was perhaps a 5 degree slope from the side fence to the back fence, maybe a total of 50 feet for our snowboarding slope. My cross country trail was a half acre loop around the outer perimeter of the yard. We groomed our trails thinking we should set up shop and sell lift tickets.

Asherel had traded her old new snowboard in for a smaller, more controllable one. The old new one was just too long for a beginner and she couldn't turn or stop, though she could go really fast straight down the hill and off the mountain into oncoming traffic. This was to be the maiden voyage on her new new snowboard.

We put on our layers of wool and down, and headed to the "slope". When straight snowboarding on our backyard hill resort was a little slow, Asherel tried swinging on the tire swing and then catapulting herself down the "mountain".  This didn't really work, but I gave her 10 points for style and ingenuity. Meanwhile, my trail had all the elements necessary for great cross country....except that the country I was crossing was the size of a postage stamp. With that small limitation, everything else was in place for a fantastic day on the slope. I had beautiful snow covered trees lining my trail. Wildlife abounded....at least two snow crazy dogs were going wild with abandon leaping beside me. The trails were quickly smooth and groomed and just the exact perfect gliding over consistency that x-c skiers live for. I had sharp turns, an exhilarating downhill, a carb burning uphill, and two "long" straight sections to work on my gliding technique. We were out there an hour.

We had not told Arvo where we were. Last he knew, we were dressed for a day of wilderness skiing and had disappeared with our gear. My phone rang.
"Hello?" I said, "Make it quick- I am skiing and time is money at a swank resort like this one."
"Oh, I was  just wondering when you were coming home," he said,
"I am home," I answered, "Look out the back window."

Asherel was using her snowboard for a sled by now, kneeling on it and shoving off down our "hill". Honeybun was on the scent of some underground hibernating creature, probably a den of vipers, and her snout was covered with dirt. I snapped the phone closed, and prepared to tackle the "downhill."

So it all goes to show once again that Dorothy came to the right conclusion. We can search far and wide for our hearts' desires, but in the end, "There is no place like home."  How often I am seeking contentment in far off places, when it is possible to carry the very presence of God right here in the center of my own heart? Quite often, the mountain of delight I am searching only satisfies for a moment, and then that longing returns, the longing for home, for the place where my roots run deep and I feel I belong. Ultimately, I am not home...not til I am back with my Creator.That wanderlust so many of us feel, that sense that if only I could round that next corner I will find what I am looking for, I think reflects that primal need to find home. But I am not sure home is really a place so much as a Being. We sense we are apart...but we don't always remember Whom it is we are missing. Strange how something so central to my existence should be at once so present and yet feel so far away sometimes. It is good to be forced by the storms of life to hunker down and recognize I am already there, and He never left.

"Does this resort sell hot chocolate?" asked Asherel.
"I think so," I answered, "Of course it is expensive but then everything is on the mountain. Com'on, I'll treat you."

Proverbs 27

⁸ Like a bird that flees its nest
   is anyone who flees from home.

Proverbs 7:11

¹¹ She is unruly and defiant,
   her feet never stay at home;

Isaiah 32:17-18

¹⁷ The fruit of that righteousness will be peace;
   its effect will be quietness and confidence forever.
¹⁸ My people will live in peaceful dwelling places,
   in secure homes,
   in undisturbed places of rest.

2 Corinthians: 4- 9, 20-21

⁴ For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. ⁵ Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.  ⁶ Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. ⁷ For we live by faith, not by sight. ⁸ We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. ⁹ So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it.
20...We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. ²¹ God made him who had no sin to be sin