Moving Downstream

When I was four, I stood in front of these two, Paul and Babe, after my dad died. He was buried on his 30th birthday. I somehow connect these two concrete creatures to that time. So long, Paul and Babe, it was nice to stand in front of you again. Sixty-four years later, I'm moving downstream.

It's back on the river today, a beautiful cool morning after two days refuge in a local hotel. It was devastating weather that came through and tore off roofs, downed trees, flipped small buildings and RVs, and leaving much more property damage. I am grateful to Carl, Debi, Ann, Dan, Sandy, Rick, Annette, Janet, Lisa at Rapid Taxi, and the staff at Hotel Rapids plus all those online, who basically saved my life by bringing me in and taking care of me while off the water. I am grateful to those back home, also, who are filled with prayer for me.

I am about to get a lift with my gear and boat to a kayak put-in by the public library where the water was smooth-topped but moving swiftly last I saw. That was two days ago, before the storm. If it is still like this, it ought to be a perfect day.

I am being watched over while on the river, as I go alone. God is there to see I pass the challenges. He's provided people along the way, generous and caring, to be kind and helpful. Here I go, needing nothing, blessed.