We left about an hour later than I wanted to. These things happen. With the relaxed nature of Spring Break, it felt like we had all the time in the world, yet in this case we had some place to be. Tides don’t wait for anyone. So instead of launching right at high tide, we launched a little more than an hour after high tide. For the first part of the trip it didn’t matter much. For the last little stretch it mattered. A lot.
The plan was for us to put into the marsh by the East Beach Causeway at high tide, maybe even a little bit before, paddle our way north to Gould’s Inlet and then shoot across to the south end of Sea Island for a picnic. And that’s what we ended up doing, except for the later departure. We had to get all the gear packed. We had to make a pit stop at the bathhouse, even though we discussed using bathrooms before we left home. It’s the way it goes.
The trip through the marsh was great. By design, paddling with the current makes it a pleasant little trip. The temperature was perfect last Friday; right at seventy degrees and sunny with a nice breeze; “Seventy one-derful,” as we overheard someone in a restaurant proclaim the day before. But as we popped out of the marsh river and crossed the inlet, turning north, we turned into the wind and the tide, and it got real. It took a lot of effort to go a relatively short distance because of literally trying to go upstream with the wind against us. My arms and wrists began to ache, and we really weren’t moving very fast. A group paddle from Sea Island came jauntily down from their launch, at least eight kayaks, with the paddlers gawking at us madly thrashing away. The guide pleasantly said, “You’re going the wrong way,” as he glided on by. “I know,” I said, “but not for long. We’re almost there.”
“Almost,” is a very relative term. We made it, we just had to work a lot harder to get there than I planned. And I wasn’t surprised. We knew that last leg would be hard work and had a plan B in case we couldn’t get there without killing ourselves. But we’re a determined bunch and we persevered. Ultimately it was worth it. We had the southern end of Sea Island to ourselves for most of the time we were there. We could see where one of the local outfitters had been on the island earlier in the morning, and towards the end of our time a trio of paddle boarders came up to take a rest. For a couple hours we enjoyed our lunch and explorations on what felt like our own little beach.
By the time we left the beach and paddle back to the inlet the wind had shifted, and although we paddled into the wind again, the tide was still with us and it was much easier. All in all it was a great outing. But that last leg of the trip there was the hardest paddling I’ve done since we got the kayaks,; it was harder than anything else I’ve kayaked elsewhere. With the wind and the tide working against us, it took almost everything I had. Thankfully my little passenger was lying down instead of sitting up, or I may not have been able to push through that wind!
There are moments in life that feel like everything is against us. There are times when everything goes wrong, even in the midst of a sunny perfect period in our life. The wind changes, illness surprises us, a pink slip arrives in our mailbox, the roof springs a leak, depression rears its head – there are countless things that can push back on our progress and growth. A couple of the things that made it possible for me to continue through such physical barriers in the kayak include an ability to see my destination, and a plan B. I could see the beach landing; I simply focused on it and didn’t pay attention to my slow progress. I also ignored the growing pain as long as I could, which was long enough. Plan B was that we could always stop, go with the flow, literally, and end up back at the inlet where we could also have a perfectly fine picnic in the sand.
I also realize that it’s not fair to assume we always have these things going for us in life. We can’t always see nor do we necessarily know our destination, or how far we have to go to reach it. We don’t always have a plan B either. When we are giving it everything we have just to stay level, there is a limit to how long we can sustain it. But here’s where life is different than kayaking: we can stop and rest a whole lot easier, and we don’t have to worry about drowning (in other words, most things aren’t going to kill us). We can get help from people in our life to help us power through, and if we can’t locate a physical destination, we can set our minds and hearts on God and a deeper knowledge of God’s love for us as a way station and safe port until we are able to continue.
With many things, looking forward and working hard (and hard work can include grieving, resting, patience, letting go of anger, overcoming fear, asking for and accepting help) can get us an awfully long way. And sometimes we simply need to realize that our destination, our hopes for the future, need to be adjusted, either temporarily or even permanently. That is what a plan B is, and while we may not want a plan B at all, it’s not always up to us. Plan B might be anything from giving up bacon to charting a life without our spouse, or even accepting that our time on earth is more limited than we anticipated or hoped. In almost every case there is a plan B.
I wish that every struggle had a sunny beach picnic at the end of it, but I know that’s not the case, so I rejoice for the times when we can find them. If you find yourself paddling madly amidst the tides and winds of life, remember two things: Psalm 121 prays, “I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth…The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; it is he who shall keep you safe. “ Look ahead for your destination. The other thing to remember is what St. Paul said to the Philippians: “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Work hard, with God’s help. If we can hold on to these two things, I think we’ll find we can indeed endure most of these moments in life.
Tom+
Fortify us, O God, with the courage which cometh only from thee; that in the midst of all our perils and perplexities we may find that peace which only thou canst give; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.