So long summer...

Sad to say, but summer is really over. I struggled greatly with bringing my boat to shore at the end of the last few strokes on the last lake.

When I left for camping and canoeing on Friday,
it was about the last thing in the world that I wanted to do.
My house was a mess,
I felt overwhelmed by way too many details that still need taking care of before my new kids come,
I was tired
I was loathing in self-pity
And I just wanted to stay home
and loaf on the couch.

However, guilt got me to go
and the fact that I know I love camping and canoeing.
I was sure I would have fun once I got there.

I drove out with a good friend
and along with good conversation
we played some humbling and heartfelt songs
acknowledging our imperfect humanness
and the depths of God's grace.
"At the top of our lungs" hardly describes how we sang.
It was what my heart needed.
And as we drove along the gravel roads
around corners and over crazy rocks that don't belong on roads
between lots of trees
watching the sun go down
I couldn't help but remember why it was that I was heading out for the weekend.
It was amazing.
The sun
creation
the known silence outside the confines of the Toyota
and the feeling of release
just by being there.
In a matter of an hour
my whole focus shifted
and I was excited to be leaving
every care in the world back in the city.

We slept under the stars -
on the rocks and in the moss -
we portaged and paddled
and swam off random rocks
we shared good conversation
we set up camp on a non-site
we sang and read and prayed
and found solitude
in the greatest church "building" there is.
I learned to kayak
and canoed by myself
and took time to journal
and watched turtles and a hawk
and a snake and listened to the loons -
who by the way are out both at night AND during the day -
and reveled at the expanse of the sky
and at how awesome we decided we are -
this was seconded by 2 men and a boy who paddled by
so we're pretty sure it's true -
and just enjoyed being.

I haven't done that in awhile.
Left every care behind.
It's incredibly refreshing.

And I only left my cares in the city.
When I returned,
sadly they were there.
The mess -
the laundry
the dishes
the school work -
the stresses and worries
the reminder that my "real" life starts again tomorrow.

For a few moments,
as I wrote in my journal
and sang in my car
and read and prayed by headlamp
in the darkness and the silence
and paddled in the quiet
God was so very present.
And I didn't consciously ask Him to come.
He was just there.
And He took all those worries and anxieties
without me consciously handing them over.
And I was at peace.
Content, relaxed, refreshed, and confident.

He knows how to do that,
God does,
to take me and mold me
when I'm unwilling and unready.
To remind me of His grace,
of my significance in His plan,
of the simplicity of life and love,
of his power and infiniteness,
and of the joy
that comes from trusting
and casting my cares on Him.

Imagine if I invited Him to come
and be where I am all the time
or if I left my worries at His feet
instead of just back in the city.