River Memoirs

Looking back at the times I've spent in a canoe, I realized that there is not a single time where one thing or another didn't go wrong. All of my canoe experiences involve flipping, flooding, or loosing certain essential items, like oars. I've been knocked out by fallen trees and stranded by shallow waters, yet the tranquility of floating down a ribbon of water still allures me. Every bend holds a surprise, a lanky blue heron or an acrobatic fish, the dainty drink of a white tailed deer, or a cantankerous duck with her fuzzy brood.

The journey down a creek or a river need not be rushed but absorbed. Arriving is insignificant, breathing in the moment is utmost. I prefer to sit with my oar across my lap then to dip it into the stream and pull it back. Let the current take me where it will. The problem is that the canoe doesn't always stay centred. It veers to the shore or begins to circle in every direction. At times, the current turns swift and the craft begins to capsize. In these moments, the oar should be used, to give a little push or to guide the canoe through the rough rapids.

This canoe fixation was brought on by a quote in Brennan Mannings other book, The Signature of Jesus. The Ragamuffin Gospel was such a good read that I decided to jump right into another one of his works. This is what he says,

"While faith is a gift of God, it calls for rugged effort on our part if it is to bear fruit. Modern-day hermit Carlo Caretto writes, "God gives us the boat and the oars, but then tells us,'It's up to you to row.' "

I'm in the boat of belief but the oar of faith is lying on my lap. My approach to canoeing has become my approach to following Christ. What beautiful sights am I missing because I'm jammed on a muddy shore? How many gasps of wonder are left unuttered due to senseless circles in the same spot? How often do I have to tip in the rushing rapids of life and soak myself in tears before I learn to pick up my oar and row?

Capsize me again for you, my Jesus. Teach me how to handle the oars and as I flow with your Spirit, may I recognize the right moments to rest. Knocked down or stranded, your river of life still bids me come.