Sometimes we run out into the middle of a situation without realizing just where we're headed.
That's how I found myself on the ledge damming the Rum River Tuesday evening during our family camping trip.
My husband and two older sons had gone fishing following supper. Our six-year-old son helped me tidy up the site before we joined the others. Along the mile hike, Noah carried his rod over his shoulder and recounted his morning fishing trip – taken exclusively with his dad – while Isaac, Aaron and I had rented kayaks.
About midday, we'd spotted Noah seated on the ledge nearest the shore swinging his legs, waving and hollering, "Hey! I caught a bullhead!" Avid-fisherman Aaron was envious of little brother's morning luck. And so, this evening excursion would be perfect to even the score.
When Noah and I arrived at the dam, he was determined to keep the lead. He scanned the scene, spotted Dad and the boys on the opposite side and proceeded to join them before I could utter: STOP!
I followed – believing I could save Noah if he stumbled. The 10-inch ledge looked wide enough. Halfway across, I lost my nerve. The water rushing through the lock... The three-foot drop to the river below... The DANGER sign with an image of a person spinning in the under current... all gripped me.
Without his knowing, Noah saved me. To combat my fear, I focused on his shoes. Silently, I prayed for his safety and for my own courage to keep step with his.
We made it. Dad lifted Noah up over the lock. I stayed on the ledge deciding: Should I hoist myself up and wonder how to get down or... go back alone? The older boys wanted to fish on the ledge. To them I confessed, "I've never felt this kind of fear. I can't go back alone. I need to follow someone."
To let my sons pass, I hoisted myself up over the lock. On this other bank, I explored the stony shore, took in the beautiful view, watched Isaac and Aaron chase elusive bass, saw Noah catch a sunfish and caught my husband emptying the bait box to announce, "That's it. There's nothing left. Time to go back and cool off."
"Right..." I thought. "Just let it NOT be in the river!"
Dad helped Noah across. Aaron grabbed his shoes and tackle box. And Isaac waited as I lowered myself onto the ledge. To let us all pass, a couple fisherwomen stepped off the ledge's high side into ankle-deep water. I thought, "Wow... that side isn't so dangerous."
Still fearful of the lower side, I kept my eyes on Isaac's shoes... step by step. Approaching the women, I said, "I'm not too keen on this balance beam stuff."
"You're doing great!" one said. As I stepped onto the rocky shore, I replied "Thanks! Now I'm doing even better."
Next time I find myself in the middle of a such situation, I'll know how to keep my head. And maybe... I'll even take off my shoes.
1 comment:
I love discovering nuggets of truth that speak to me within your writing, Wendy. This time it was: "To combat my fear, I focused on his shoes." It made me think about following God and finding His path for my life. Whenever I'm afraid, I'll focus on His shoes even more closely. Nice writing!
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