We portaged our canoe and camping supplies three different times before settling in on a remote Canadian fishing lake.
When we crawled into our sleeping bags and the gas lantern hissed out, I remember falling into an exhausted, but contented sleep.
I had no concerns for the next day's weather or food. I didn't fret or wonder if we could ever thread our way back through the myriad twists and turns of islands and open water back to our starting point. My dad knew what to do. He had everything taken care of.
Or so it seemed to a ten year old. Years later as I started to lead trips of my own, I learned that his easy going confidence came from good planning, reliable equipment and a safety-first brand of common sense. He made it look easy, and I put my full trust in him. When you really think about it though, peril was never far away. Bear attacks happen to prepared people. Bad storms or fires can roar through and crush reliable equipment. My dad's strength shielded me from those worries, but the risks were no less real.
I watched a documentary of the Apollo astronauts last month. They had gorgeous archived film footage of the blue marble sphere of our earth.
We take lots more for granted every day on this planet than I ever did as a kid on those wilderness trips with my dad. Our earth is tilted precariously at an angle that rides the literal edge of destruction between seasons around an explosive gas ball. We're way more than three portages deep into this universe. One degree here or there and we freeze or burn. Carbon gases are laughable compared to a rogue sunspot.
But I have deep confidence in my Father in Heaven, the Lord my God.
He is my shield and protector. I believe in his plan. While storms rage and vicious predators lurk, I draw comfort from His wisdom and strength.
Listen though - this part is important: I do not stray far from Him in camp.
As smart and strong as my dad was, he could do nothing for me if I were to wander off into the woods on my own. I kept within earshot. He taught me to establish visual landmarks that would lead me back if I got confused on a trail. There were some things, like navigating fast water in a canoe, that you simply did not do alone.
I stick within a prayer's distance of God. He renews strength and comfort when I return to camp each Sunday. I try never to enter dangerous waters of temptation on my own. Keep the Bible compass nearby. And there are established landmarks of Salvation and Grace if I get confused on the trail.
Not everyone had a role model like my dad, but everyone has a Father who loves them and will get them there and back.
What do you believe?
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