My brother-in-law and I were kayaking on the Mountain Fork River near Broken Bow Oklahoma. We started on a simple journey, cruse around the island in the middle of the river. The journey would be about a mile. It was early in the morning and the water was clear, the sky bright blue. We took a leisurely approach, dipping our paddles into the water and gliding on the surface.
We saw turtles stacked on turtles basking in the sun. We saw much larger turtles lumbering under our boats in the crystal clear water. A few birds chattered tantiliziling in the tops of the trees. They never came out where I could Identify them. We came upon a group of cows chest deep in the water. They watched us intently and backed away as we got near.
We rounded the end of the island and had to make the decision of going back to the cabin or exploring more of the river. We opted to explore. The first leg of our journey had been in calm deep water and though we were paddling upstream, it was relatively easy. As we set out to this new area, the topography of the river changed. It moved from a narrow deep channel to a wide shallow and rocky riverbed. The water which had been quiet and calm churned and heaved into a white froth.
We turned our boats into the flow and began to immolate windmills, churning as fast as we could trying to overcome the onslaught of water. We made stead progress, but our arms and shoulders complained. Our lungs resisted. The water kept trying spin us around and push us down the river, but we did not give up. After about 20 feet Troy, my brother-in-law, reached a smooth patch of water. I stepped out of my kayak into the water and hauled my boat to the easier path.
We did this over and over as we progressed up the river until we reached a place that even Troy could not surmount. So, since I was already wet, I hauled both our boats up the stream. A man standing on the riverbank called out to us, “You are going the wrong way!” We kept paddling and hauling until we were over a mile and half upstream. Then the clock caught up with us and it was time to return.
The downstream journey was a snap. We raced through places we had conquered at a snail’s pace. In the calm water as we neared the landing, we both remarked on how much we enjoyed the journey, especially the fight to go upstream. Most people don’t fight the current, they just go along. Sometimes, we need to go against the flow, we need to struggle. There is joy in a life lived on purpose in a direction with meaning. We are living in times when being Christian will mean straining against the current of society and we will all need to paddle upstream.