Our family recently had the pleasure of spending a day at Shaver Lake in our beautiful Sierra mountains. The water is high with run-off from the heavy snowpack. The sun was up, and a brisk afternoon breeze made the day about as perfect as one could wish for.Best of all, I got to spend a little time fishing - something fun for me and (so far) perfectly safe for the fish! As I cast fruitlessly, I enjoyed watching some canoe paddlers working their way away from shore into the body of water. And I mean working, with great effort and minimal progress.
There were two adult women in the boat, and a small child in the middle. The ladies wore no flotation vests, but seemed to be laughing and having a great time. I'm glad about that, because they were making barely incremental progress, in part, no doubt, to the fact that only the woman in the back was paddling.
It was one of the lake afternoons, the time when a stiff wind lifts the water into spiky waves, and the canoe was headed directly into the wind. Mind you, it was with some difficulty the paddler/pilot/captain kept the bow pointed into that wind.
Watching them struggle, it took me a few moments to catch on to the oddity of the situation. The front of the slender craft dipped precariously low, while the back end rose out of the water. What? And then, "Aha!" The woman in the back was actually sitting backward on the front seat of the canoe! They had their vessel turned backward.
And struggle they did, for a considerable length of time, until at last they spun around and let the wind return them to shore.It was funny to watch, and potentially dangerous for those in the canoe, I suppose. But I got to wondering how often I've been in my boat, paddling backwards into the wind. How often have I struggled needlessly, because I wanted to do things my own way, or because I was too stubborn to ask for direction? More often than I care to admit.
Several days later I came upon Psalm 48 in my devotional readings. The Psalmist boldly praises God our Savior, and celebrates Jerusalem, the great fortress and city of God's people. His closing comment reminded me again of the backwards boaters, paddling without direction or understanding. The Psalmist reassured me that instead of struggling like that through life, I can say with him, "The LORD is our God forever and ever, and he will guide us until we die" (Psalm 48:14).
