sink or swim or maybe just float…
Rick wrote a blog today that a comment of mine apparently prompted (http://rickdancer.com/news/2008/03/29/the-secret-to-staying-afloat#comment-86). His blog reminded me of something amazing I witnessed at camp one time (before I lived there), down by the river (no van) when the salmon were spawning. First of all, just the fact that the salmon spawn in the manner that they do is amazingly spiritual to me ~ I think it’s that whole “returning to from whence they came” (yes, bad grammar, I know…) instinct thing. Just to think about it is amazing, but when you actually see it, well, it takes on a whole new meaning, which is exactly what it did for me one day almost six years ago. I had traveled up to camp (in the foothills of Mt. Hood) from Southern Oregon, where I was living at the time, for a meeting. Considering the travel time (5+ hours) and the mid-morning start time for the meeting, I had arrived at camp the night before, so I had some time to kill that morning. I walked down to the banks of the river near the fire circle ~ there was some heartache in my life at that time so, naturally, I was drawn back to that place that had been a comfort and solace to me in my youth. It was a beautiful early September morning and I decided to sit out on “my” rock for a time of silent prayer. While I sat on that rock in quiet meditation, I heard a splashing near my feet. I tried very hard to ignore it ~ silent anything is very hard for me, so when I feel committed to it, I really try to honor it. I wanted to remain on that rock, eyes closed, heart open, and ears listening for God. But all I kept hearing was that splashing. Finally, I had to look. It was a salmon ~ a big salmon! ~ right there at my feet, in the water, trying incredibly hard to navigate upstream against a current that was literally tearing her up. There were huge chunks of her skin (scales?) missing, and she just looked old, tired, and worn. I could sooooo relate. I was instantly mesmerized. I watched in silence as she held her own against the current, occasionally even making some head way, only to lose any ground gained when she would stop fighting long enough to attempt to regain her strength. It was truly a “one step forward / two steps back” kind of a thing. She would push and fight, moving forward inch-by-unnoticeable inch, and then, swoosh, be swept five or six feet back downstream when her energy gave out. Occasionally, she would turn and swim downstream, full force with the current for about ten or fifteen feet. She would then turn on a dime, and plow back up against the water, and back near my feet, finally surpassing my rock by six or so inches after her third or fourth try. I stood up and cheered - literally. I found myself pulling for this fish with all my heart! When I stood and glanced upstream in the direction she was heading, I saw smooth, calm, clear, still waters just a few short feet away. ”She is soooooo close!” I remember thinking. Smooth sailing (no pun intended) was just ahead and she was so close to rest, so close to a respite from her struggles. That little pool of water may have even been her spawning ground - her destination! She was so close, but she didn’t know it. But beyond that, she didn’t care - she continued to swim; she continued to fight that current; she continued to work. Instinctually, she knew what the task at hand was, and she knew her pre-destined role was to complete that task. As I continued to watch her work, I found myself wanting to reach into the current, pick her up, and gently place her just five feet upstream into the calm waters. I actually even tried a couple of times, but I fell woefully short, and I am sure I looked woefully ridiculous even trying! It wasn’t long before I found myself wondering if God feels like that when we, His children, are struggling against the current. Does He see the still waters just upstream, and long to pick us up and gently place us there where we can find some rest? I believe He does ~~ but more than that, I believe He sees and understands that He cannot (or rather maybe I should say “should not”) do for us what it is that we are destined to do for ourselves, for in our doing, do we not become who we were created to be and do we not accomplish what it is that we were created to accomplish? I saw myself in that fish that day. I felt the force of the current pushing me backwards, tearing at my flesh, keeping me from my purpose. I felt God’s presence watching over me, cheering me on, and longing to help. I sensed the closeness of the still, calm waters. I couldn’t see them yet, but I knew they were nearby ~~ and they were. And, I need to remember now that they are nearby once again. Some days I’ll need to swim upstream, against the current, and on others, I’ll need to do as Rick suggested and just float. But either way, I need to remember from whence I came ~ the heart of my God. When I return there, all is as it supposed to be.