Well, it's Wednesday again.  It's amazing how fast time passes.  I know I was busy this last week, but doing what?  I made a commitment to join Lynnette's Wednesday Walk so today is this week's walk down memory lane.

Yep, that's me.  Looking at the hand-written date my mother so lovingly scrawled on the back it would put me at just over five years old.  My grandparents, on my dad's side, had this wonderful boat.  They lived less than a mile from a major lake, and until I was a teenager my grandfather payed for a slip to dock the boat.  I spent countless summer nights fishing for pan fish, and later, in the setting summer sun, scaling fish in my grandparents three season porch.

One of my favorite activities with the boat was to play in the boat prior to it being launched.  If you look around, you can see that it's in a neighborhood.  There's a street ot the left, and grass in front.  My dad would lift me into the boat dubbed "The Crusader" and my younger sister, Becky, and I would set off for an adventure.  We'd pretend to clean the boat, we'd create stories of being lost at sea, and occasionally we'd have a little fight.  However, we quickly learned that if we earned the privilege of being in the boat we'd need to get along.  Or at least fake it.

Anyways, this sweet picture creates such nostalgia in my heart.  I loved spending times at my grandparents.  I loved fishing and riding across the water with the wind blowing my curly hair around.  I loved the excitement of seeing my bobber sink under the water, and the tension on my rod as I reeled in my sunfish.  I craved those moments when my dad would ask me to sit on his lap so that I could steer the boat.  I'd sit on his left knee and he would give me the steering wheel.  Well, it felt that way.  But, underneath his strong and guiding hand would hold the wheel tight making sure that I, a mere child, didn't crash, or spin us around, or guide us into shore.  Yet, he let me learn.  He allowed the boat to slip just a bit so that I'd learn how to readjust. 

As the years passed his grip on the boat lessened and lessened.  Eventually, he handed over the wheel to me.  He trusted me.  He taught me how to drive.  He drilled the rules into my head.  Who passes whom, on what side, what speed you go through the channel, and so on.   I'd be asked over and over.

If you think about those early days of boat driving, there's a neat analogy about my father holding the wheel and that of our heavenly Father holding our earthly steering wheel.  There are many times where I think that I know the right path, that I know where to go, and yet I find myself marooned on the shore.  A shore, a place of lost dreams, lost hopes, and discouragement.  Shipwrecked.  My stubborness to let my Father guide me weakened my faith.  And I was led to places that I didn't want to go.  Or certainly, when I started the journey I was looking at the target, the destination.  But, on my own, I didn't navigate there.  My faith was weakened, and I drifted off course.  Sometimes I'll grip the wheel of life and think, "I'm doing it on my own.  I have to fix this."  And other times, I'd let go.  Neither works.  There's a balance of action and faith.

In Timothy Paul talks about faith.  I love the phrase "I have fought the good fight."  Right after that verse comes this:

"...holding on to faith and a good conscience. 

 Some have rejected these and

so have shipwrecked their faith."

1 Timothy 1:19

Shipwrecked their faith?  Is a shipwreck ever the intent of the captain?  I know that, me as a daring boat captain at five, never ended, never aimed to drive the boat into a shore.  And yet, if my Dad hadn't been steering with me, there is a good chance it would have sailed into the rocky shore.  Oh, how I want to live in such a surrendered way where I know that I cannot steer through this life on my own.  I need to live dependant upon my Father.

Thanks, again, Lynnette, for a delightful jaunt down memory lane.  I hope that my bit of remembering coupled with my analogy motivates and encourages you all.  The Lord is good.  He knows the plans for our lives.  He's got the map.  Live for Him, my friends!

Blessings,

Rachel

One last thing: my blog contest for the book "Streams in the Desert" ends tomorrow night.  Click here to enter: My Blog Giveaway   Good Luck!