Monday, September 2, 2024

Adrift

 


Living waters have a current, an ebb and flow to them, sometimes unseen, as from a hidden wellspring, a source beyond the ken of human senses. Living waters are not distilled nor sterile. The currents bringing them to the ponds and headwaters contain nutrients, the outgoing currents take the waste of the living organisms downstream to be consumed by still other creatures or cast of in the effervescence of the streams.

The waters I seem to be on are not some stagnant pond, putrid with waste and polluted by mankind. And so, adrift as I am, I have at least this one thing left, that my oft used sign off, ‘in His grip’, is still true and that whatever landfall my drift takes me, I will have my feet on firm soil.

Adrift appears an apt turn for this stage of life I find myself. Meriam (we are on a first name basis now) talks about adrift as being without motive power and having no anchor or mooring, ties, guidance or security. I am uneasy with these things. I’m an old man, for God’s sake! Shouldn’t I have the power to direct my life, activities, and interests?

By what mechanism have I become adrift, without sail and subject to every current and vagrant wind? By my own devices? Have others cast me into this drift? Let me be honest with myself – I have no one to blame but myself. I pushed off into the stream without proper provisions.

I shouldn’t be rudderless, without oars or a motor these days. I’m a Christian. But I am in the water’s power and subject the vagaries of the stream with its rocky outcroppings, rapids, and glassy stretches. I am consumed with sadness, not as acute as Jesus’ sadness in the garden of Gethsemane, but at times it feels akin to that.

I have a distinct memory from my childhood when my mom and a friend of hers took my sisters, the friend’s son, Dennis Broberg, and me up to Switzer’s Creek in the Angeles National Forest. Dennis and I took our army men and equipment. You know, like those great characters from the Toy Story movies? We set up roads and fortifications. We collected twigs and fashioned rafts for water-born assaults. The prone machine gunners were particularly good for the rafts. We set them adrift in the creek in the hopes they could get behind enemy lines. Adrift and without rudders, they invariably ran afoul of some driftwood collected between the rocks. My own drift sometimes feels like the ill-fated infantryman’s.

Still, I am in His grip and when it comes to it and I am caught by the eddies that thwart my progress, I can risk it and reach over the side and hand-paddle my way out. Firmer ground awaits and who knows what stranded wayfarer I might bring into my raft and take to safety along the way.

To borrow a phrase from Ellis Boyd "Red" Redding, “I hope”.

In His grip,

Jerry White


7 comments:

  1. Facebook comment from Stacey White Horst: Reach out, Bro. I’m in the drift boat next to yours. We will flow downstream together and find our footing. ❤️

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    1. Exactly right, sis. If we lift our eyes even a little, we likely would see rafts moving along with us. The term for a group of ducks on a lake or river is, ‘raft’. This is the reality; we are not alone. And it’s not a Disney ride so we are free not to always keep our hands inside the boat at all times. And I am F.I.N.E., just like it says on the sign at the bottom or our driveway.

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  2. Facebook comment from Jim McClelland:
    It is not until the sixth paragraph does the reader encounter the allegorical raft. So my simultaneous responses are "Dang. He's not directly engaged with the currents," and, what entity is really adrift? You, or the raft?

    The currents cannot teach you when they slide past you under the raft. The raft prevents you from enjoying first hand the truths of the discoveries along this particular journey.

    As they say, "Hop in! The water's great!"

    I'll bring you a towel.

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    1. First, I love interchanges brought about by the writing of my posts. It is what I imagined when I started them. Alas, there have been woefully few over the 300+ posts I’ve put up. Thank you.

      Second, aha! Perhaps I did not imagine myself in the water until later during my trek of discovery during the writing of Adrift. I will jump in. Free-floating a river is not new to me, even on purpose. I can remember floating in The lake and feeling currents where I wouldn’t think there would be and changes in temperature not brought on by myself.

      One additional thought – I am more effective in the water as a swimmer than I am in a raft paddling with my hands. If I so choose, I can swim to any shore, out of any eddy, or into the deepest part of the river. I’ll probably do that, swim over to the rocks, find a nice ledge and take a dive…

      And thanks for the towel.

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    2. Facebook reply from Jim McClelland: Atta boy.

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  3. Facebook comment from Demaris Brown: This is such a beautiful writing. I was talking to my kids saying I thought I was doing better and was able to start doing through more things again. When I started that I realized I couldn’t do it. I was just sitting in the room looking around trying to figure out where start ended up in an eddy. Thanks for sharing

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    1. Dear cousin, thank you. You have great oars and a crew, those kids of yours, and a cheering section. You'll figure out how to get the oars in the water and move. Or, you could do what our friend Jim suggested - get in the water, feel the currents, and swim. Peace.

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