Patient in Spirit

“Better is the end of a thing than its beginning, and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit” (Ecclesiastes 7:8)

It is amazing how “difficult” seeing the simple things can be.

It requires effort on our part to get to a place where we can see things in their true light. Yet, it also requires us being still in order that we may see things as they are.

Elise T. and I had a roommate date day today. I have a bucket list that I made in the spring of things I want to do before I graduate and leave SLO. One of those was kayaking. I had thought about ocean kayaking, but we decided to rent our equipment from the shop on campus and go to a lake instead. So, we shelled out a whopping $15 to rent a double kayak, life vests, and paddles, and proceeded to carry our equipment and massive kayak to my car in the parking lot a few hundred yards away.

We got it to my car and then had to proceed to figure out how we were going to attach it. I brought along my car top bag that has a foam side to it to protect the surface of my roof. Then, my antenna was sticking up the back. We flipped over the kayak over the antenna. I bought ratchet tie-downs at Home Depot before we left. Slowly but surely, we figured out how to work them and then fastened three of them, one on the back, and two across the middle diagonally. After stopping by John’s briefly, we set off to drive up the grade (a 1,000+ feet hill between SLO and Atascadero). In the first couple of minutes of driving around 60 mph, Elise and I had doubts about how well the kayak would hold, as the wind was lifting it up pretty well in the front and it was making its way backwards on my car. We made the good judgment to pull off on a side road to assess the situation. We ended up adding a last ratchet tie down on the front of my car with the front of the kayak and the tow hook under the bumper. Turns out, that part is kind of key to keeping a kayak on a car, who would’ve thought? We then proceeded up the grade much more successfully than we would’ve a couple minutes prior. I had visions of texts in my head stating, “John, can you help us? Our kayak flew off on the 101 and it kinda caused an accident…and now we can’t find it…” Thankfully, there were no texts needed of that nature!

We arrived at Santa Margarita Lake after a short but beautiful drive through the countryside with its golden blades of grass. We stopped to pay our park fee, talking to the ranger about kayaking as well. We acted like we knew what we were doing though we didn’t really. He extended us grace and gave us directions to the launching dock. We got there and unloaded the kayak, all of the equipment, and our packed lunch for the afternoon. Hardly anyone was in sight on the lake. After tying down our equipment, we started off in paddling to the cove on the far west side, stroking in-line with each other and making our way quickly. The water was perfect, the clouds were puffy and happy, and egrets abounded in number, stroking gracefully across the water and soaring through the air. Elise and I decided quickly that this was bliss.

After about 30 minutes of paddling, we arrived on the far shore, breaking up a duck party, and pulled our kayak on shore. We laid a towel down and proceeded to eat lunch and talking in the meantime. There is such a joy found in conversation that is free, unhindered, and edifying. We sat on the shore for over an hour talking and enjoying the absolutely perfect ~80 degree sunny day. The self-timer needed to make its appearance, so it did before we made our way back.

On our way to lunch we paddled against the current so we were with the current on the way back. As being on the water is blissful, Elise and I decided to alternate floating and paddling. Here and there, we directed ourselves towards our destination, avoiding the sweeping currents where we did not want to go. After a while we finally reached a point in the water where we could allow the current to float us back to the dock. It was still quite a ways away, however.

There were times in that floating where it was tempting to pick up the paddles again and paddle a little bit more, rather than being still and trusting the current to carry us. Yet, we refrained, and we found in time, we were being carried further than we imagined. I noticed that our observation of our moving depends on our reference point. If we looked at something further away from us, it didn’t seem like we were moving at all. However, if we looked at what was right in front of us, we then could see movement, slowly but surely, as our reference point would continue to shift. We watched the birds soar, others swim along the surface and plummet underneath in a search for fish; we saw a group of deer on a meadow bank enjoying the pickings of grass they were finding, oblivious to us existing. It was a calm seldom reached. It was a place in which we were fully still and the world thrived around us; it did not deter due to our actions and interrupting of its environment. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

I do not know how long we floated, but the current was faithful to carry us back to the dock rather quickly. We dismounted, dried off for a bit, then reloaded the equipment once again. The tying down of the kayak this time around went without a hitch from our trial and error the first time. The drive down was beautiful, and we proceeded to enjoy a great evening together.

It’s times like today where I hear and see clearly God speaking to my heart and soul. It was such a beautiful reminder of how my perception of time is flawed. God’s been teaching me a lot about seeing what is in front of me and enjoying the blessing of the moment. Today was a reminder of how when I look to what is far out, I may get an idea of the destination, but I lose conception of the progress in the current; I must look to what is in front of me to understand that. It was a reminder of how when I am still, God is faithful to carry and lead me, and it is much more fruitful than when I do the paddling. When I am still, I see things in the right light; I see things for how they are, and I am then struck by their true condition. Today was beautiful.

Today was a lesson in co-laboring. Elise and I went much further together than we would’ve separately, and we were able to pick up the slack for each other as needed. Even more so, it was a lesson in co-laboring with God. He puts things in our path for us to do and experience in order that we may come to know Him more. Elise and I had to paddle to the far shore, against the current, in order to have the blessing of floating with it in stillness on the way back, drinking in the revelation that existed around us if we were still enough to see it. There is such a joy in co-laboring.

I write this tonight with tired eyes, very sore arms, but a revived and renewed spirit. The practicalities of today required a lot of “difficult” things, a lot of doing and learning things ourselves by the grace of God. We could’ve gone to Morro Bay or Avila and had a kayak company put us in the water for an hour. Yet, there, we would’ve missed out on the full experience. There is sacrifice required on our parts to experience the fullness of God. It is not always easy, often not easy, but it is duly rewarded. Often times what we are looking for is already there…God just ordains our circumstances to help us to see it. We look so long and hard and far for His presence when we forget the fact that He is forever omnipresent. We blind ourselves by how we choose to see and deal with our own circumstances. We don’t want to fight against the current for a later reward; and we also think we should paddle when we probably should float and be still. We slough off the key characteristics of a Spirit-filled life and wonder why still we don’t receive. We ask the same kind of questions, subconsciously making God our master, rather than being of a humble heart submissively ready to receive whatever He may bestow. We forget the beauty of our Sovereign God…immutable in every way, even in what we perceive to be constantly changing circumstances. He is our provider of peace.

Seeing the simple things can be “difficult” because we are not doing our part to get to a place where we can see things in their true light. We may not also not be still in the way that we may see things as they are…

“With patient mind thy course of duty run; God nothing does, nor suffers to be done,But thou wouldst do thyself, couldst thou but see The end of all events, as well as He.” –Dr. Byron, commentary on Ecclesiastes 7:8