I grew up by the Russian River, and weekends were spent on the river bar. Independent me would wandered off by myself, and cross the river to the other side. Standing opposite the bank of my family, I would wave like a proud explorer. I conquered the waters and stood where no others stood.
As exhilarating as the other side of the bank was, the journey across the river was anything but fun.
Powerful waters attempted to take me downstream. Time after time I would slip, skin my knees on sharp rocks, misstep and twist my ankle, but instinctively I kept going. Never did I look back. I wasn’t going that way.
Motivated by the purpose, my focus wasn’t the rocks, the force of the water, or my footing. It was the dry land on the other side of the river. Nevertheless, if allowed those parts of the journey could become a distraction, if I took my eyes off the destination.
The sheer strength of the water sometimes knocked me down, and I would be forced further downstream than I wanted to be. Yet, I learned not to fight the current, but allow it to carry me, because eventually it lead me to stiller waters, and I could wade to the shore.
There are days I feel like I’m that young girl again wading through the rushing river. Only this time, life is that river and God is on the other side of the shore calling me over. There are days I am hard-pressed to keep my eyes on the destination and pay no mind to all of the distractions. But I dare not look back, because that’s not where I am going. My course is set, and I’ll do whatever it takes to stand with Him on His side of the bank.
XOXO
