On Tuesday night, God gifted me with a canoe trip, 2 miles up and 2 miles back down the Highline canal. With two guys to do the hard work, as well as the steering and directing and shouting out "branch!" at the right moments, it was a smooth and dry trip. The dark of night, water flowing under, small white roses, praises sung through tunnels. So many gifts all jumbled into one night, it was hard to even keep track and I couldn't thank God enough- just for those 2 1/2 hours. Praise God, the Giver.
The canal was really full that night. Water, held after the rain in that rut. Held for so long. It had rained on Monday, and by Wednesday it hadn't left a trace on the ground around. The earth might have looked greener, but still you had to remember the last time it rained. Remember back to Monday? The beautiful drenching goodness, all day long. God poured it out from the sky for us. And it is so easy to forget. Because the day after the rain, I look around and things can look the same to me. Situations unchanged; an earth with no lasting rain imprint. For that, I have to look in the canal. Even today, water still flowed there. A reminder of God's goodness and His gifts poured out for us. It is so easy to forget the rain, and yet it is held there for us all along. I want to live there, by the canal. To have a long and lasting memory of the rain. This is the rut I want to be stuck in- the one where my eyes are opened to His good things and I let Him take me where the current goes.
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