Thursday morning we slept in. My 20 year old self would be so ashamed. I only made it to 8:30. After breakfast I proceeded to take a morning nap. Chica is onto something. I could really get used to the mid-morning nap. Once my Me-Maw self felt rested, we gathered up our gear for our canoe trip. Danny and I went on a float trip with some friends several years ago and since then, I've been itching to do it again.
Since my canoeing ambition far outweighs my canoeing skills, I was a tad bummed when they told us it was too late in the day to take the six hour trip. Daniel, however, breathed a sigh of relief. He must have the gift of prophecy to have known by the time we were actually on the river, I'd paddle a few strokes then take my mandatory Cheetos break while pointing out various wildlife along the shoreline. Meanwhile, he'd be the chump in the back getting us from Point A to Point B, six hours down the river. So we opted for the shorter route.
The Spring River is beautiful and secluded, just what I was hoping for. We glided along with all the paddling technique I could remember from seventh grade physical education class. (I can't call it "gym" class because my Mom would be on the next plane down here to set me straight.) We had a cooler full of snacks and it was just the two of us. Pure heaven.
Then the rapids came.
Now Daniel and I are pretty adventurous people. We heard the rapids before we saw them and got fired up. We'd chosen the more challenging part of the river, so we were expecting some action. Just as I was scouting out the best place to aim our boat, sccrrraaaapppppeee. We had run ashore. Oh, but not along one of the banks. Right in the middle of the river. Apparently, in the Spring River, before every set of rapids is about 20 yards of shallow water. Shallow enough to scrape the back of your boat to a complete stop. Shallow enough to have to get out of your canoe and push it along while your wife giggles, attempts to paddle, realizes it's useless and eats some more Cheetos.
A few times we built up enough speed to sail right over the rapids. Those moments were glorious and exhilarating and sparse.
I could have been bitter at Pocahontas for making it look so easy in the movie. But surprisingly, I wasn't. Because I was with Daniel. And I knew we'd laugh about it later. (Heck, I was doubled over in a fit of giggles for half the trip. He took a little more convincing of the humor of the situation. Maybe it was because even though our boat continued to scrape the bottom of the river, my intake of Swiss Cake Rolls wasn't deterred in the least.)
We've been through some tough stuff. And heaven knows even harder things will come. Marriage isn't for sissies. It doesn't bring out the best, most attractive parts of ourselves we'd like to showcase. It brings out the worst. But I believe that's why God created it in the first place. He wants those deep rooted, sinful parts of ourselves we'd just love to keep hidden to rise to the surface where He can prune them. To refine us and make us look more like He does. And when all that chaff is burning away, it's nice to have someone holding your hand at the bonfire...a spouse who chooses to forgive and rejoices at what's gone. I'm so grateful I married a man who forgives me. God knew I'd need one who would.
Friday morning we ate breakfast at a local joint.
And the Husband ate a pancake bigger than his head.
The End.
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