Through New Eyes
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My heart cringed in fierce
opposition, as my stomach turned upside down. Fear and worry
took control of my thoughts. My husband had just casually
informed me of our weekend plans – canoeing.
Under normal circumstances, the adventure would have sounded challenging; however, we had just returned from a two-week vacation in the mountains. I’d had enough tubes, rafts and rivers for a while, and I was tired of “going.” In addition, we live in Florida. Rivers in Florida are homes to alligators and snakes. My mind raced with nightmarish scenes of ferocious reptiles, thunderstorms, and bugs…lots of bugs. There were all kinds of reasons why canoeing would not be a good thing to do that weekend. I was already feeling disconnected from church because of vacation, and now I would be missing again. Not to mention the things that needed our attention at home because of our absence. I had two days to pray for interference of these plans. As I stepped back to gain control of my wayward thoughts, Philippians 4:8 ran through my mind. “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things” (NIV). My negative focus was illuminated.  New eyes opened when I began to seek
a positive approach to our journey. It felt good to see the
initiative in my husband, wanting to do something fun with his
family. I realized that our six year old had never been
canoeing, and it would be a great experience for him. The church
would be there next week, and the chores would remain until our
return. Besides, I have never seen a real alligator in its
native habitat before. As much as I hated to admit it, the trip
was beginning to sound intriguing.
My prayer changed from wanting interference, to wanting an experience. I asked God to show me a piece of himself that day – my focus was on Him. That Sunday, as we set out for the swamp, I was armed with a new perspective. God was very much a part of our day. As we placed our canoes in the water, I noticed a beautiful, purple bird. It was very thin, and it perched low to the water on the hanging branch of a cypress tree. It watched us as we swayed back and forth in our canoe, trying to get in and embark on our journey. As if it had been waiting for us, that purple bird flew just ahead of us, guiding our journey. |
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At various places along the way, we
saw alligators and turtles drying themselves in the sun on
fallen logs. When we would row closer for a picture, they would
slip very delicately into the murky water and hide.
As I watched the woods for unknown creatures, I took notice of how old this swamp was. Trees were lying everywhere. Whether fallen because of age, or from the effects of a turbulent Florida storm, they littered the river, making it an obstacle course for our canoe. I enjoyed watching the agility of our 14-year-old son as he maneuvered a kayak for the first time. And I could feel myself  getting excited along with our young
“spotter” as he screamed in awe, “There’s an alligator! Right
there!” He hurriedly fumbled for his camera, rocking our canoe.
My hands clenched the sides of the unsteady boat as my thoughts
raced silently toward an SOS prayer.
God was there, coaxing me along as my husband became aggravated at my lack of rowing skills. By the end of the day, I’d applied his suggestions and we’d learned to work as a team. In spite of my earlier hesitations, the trip was a much-needed serenity after a week of the daily grind. Apart from the occasional splash when something unknown entered the water, the swamp was a quiet and comfortable place. The sun shone brightly, and the day was very hot. The trees sheltered us from the heat’s intensity, and the “accidental” splatter of an oar was refreshing. God used this adventure to show me that what my day holds really doesn’t matter. How I choose to view things will determine who I am. Without the proper perspective, I am controlled by a negative attitude. Instead of carrying around the results of guilt and fear from looking at the wrong things, I’d much rather be full of joy and peace – looking through new eyes, and discovering life as only God can place it before me. Maybe next time, we’ll go fishing! © 2001 Caryn Burdine |
