Well I’m lying in my camping hammock, looking at the stars, and wondering if I’ve ever been this comfortable in the woods before. The sound of the waves lapping on the shore lull me to sleep. Tomorrow morning I will make a cup of tea then row back to Porteau Cove.
Anvil Island is a foreboding rock in the middle of Howe Sound that has a kids bible camp at the south end but no full time residences . The rest of the island is mountain and cliff, with precious few shallow entry points. I found a tiny rock beach that kayakers have used. A good steak cooked over the camp fire, a glass of wine, a cigar and all’s well. Sometimes we need a break from the hustle of the city, to remind us of how beautiful God made this planet.
Nothing can make you feel as small and vulnerable as being on the ocean in a dinky little 12′ row boat when a storm comes up. I had rowed for about an hour against 1/2 meter chop and a stiff nor’easter when the snow started. “Hey this wasn’t in the forecast!” Anvil had all but disappeared under a thick grey cloud.
Last Sunday at the corner of main and Cordova, I got a break from my usual job with the Salvation Army of handing out hot chocolate and got to serve home made soup to the homeless. One fellow cursed me because I only gave him one serving when we were just about out. If I give you 2, someone in the line will get none, I tried to explain as he continued to curse me. I’m wondering how the feeling of entitlement became so prevalent with these drug addicts.
When I reached the other shore the cloud lifted revealing the top 1/2 of Anvil covered with snow.
How ungrateful we can become when our circumstances run against our will. Another hour and a half rowing and I was back to the truck. I felt ashamed of myself, a little storm and I was ungrateful. The skin is waterproof. I wouldn’t melt. I had proper rain gear but even if I didn’t I would certainly dry out. The scenery was absolutely stunning and yet I missed an opportunity to give God the glory because things didn’t go exactly as I planned. I see that I am just as guilty of “entitlement “as the drug addict.
Lord, give me a spirit of gratefulness, least I become a negative, cynical old man, and miss an opportunity to give you praise.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s