Experiencing the Journey
Cindy and I danced in our doorway like kids playing ring-around the rosie when we learned that I had three days off in a row the upcoming Labor day weekend. It had been such a long time since we were able to take some time for ourselves. In addition to our recent move, Cindy's post graduate studies, and my forty plus hour workweeks, we also trekked two hours to Jacksonville every weekend for church and family visits (Exhausting...) Needless to say, we were ready for some time away.
In the spirit of some core values that we had recently settled on in our Lifegroup (Sunday school), we chose to live out core values #5 and #8. "Trust God and take risks" and "Experience the journey." #5 is pretty self explanatory, but let me describe core value #8. "Experience the journey" is a break from what society feeds us. As twenty-somethings, it is incredibly easy to be washed over by a torrent of things that just don't matter in the end. We end up worrying about school, relationships, car loans, credit cards, relationships, and other stuff that will just cloud your thinking. Experiencing the journey is experiencing this life. It is a reminder to give yourself some time and some space to just relax, take it all in, and enjoy the life and world that God has given us. It's not the accumulation of wealth or stuff that matters, it's whether or not you experienced the journey.
Those values are what set Cindy and me on a course to Anclote Key. It's a 4.77 mile paddle across the Gulf of Mexico. The island is uninhabited so we would be without amenities, but we would have stunning panoramic views of the Gulf via our sandy campsite. We checked out what other people were saying about camping at Anclote and the common complaint was, you guessed it, the bugs. Not only was that an issue, but apparently the island was prone to sudden storms and the last place you wanted to get caught in one was in a sit-in, not-too-sea-worthy kayak. Cool... That's totally trusting God and taking risks...
We woke up 5 am, hopped into the car with the kayaks pressed firmly into the roof and made the two and a half hour drive to Tarpon Springs. I must say, we were rather disappointed after the beautiful weather we were having all morning disintegrated to a cold, blustery rain upon reaching our destination. I figured God had closed that window, but we had just purchased a tent and all of our camping supplies! We weren't ready to give up, but when we learned that we couldn't park overnight at our intended launch point, we figured it was a blessing in disguise...
After an excellent lunch at a Greek hole in the wall, we made it to our Plan B; a boat ramp down on the tannic Anclote river. Another blessing, the rain had kept some of the Labor day crowd away. The boat ramp was not yet overrun.
We had no idea where the island was, but we saw a faint stretch of trees on the horizon and decided to "Trust God and take risks" and figure it out when we got there. We loaded down our kayaks, fed the parking meter, and alas, we were two love birds afloat with all the stylings of sea-faring hermits.
The thunder rolled in the distance as we slid through glassy waters. Fish darted in and on top of the shallow grass flats we made our way over. I cast at some, hooking a few, but only to lose them at the boat. It was a lovely way to start our journey.
About two hours later, the grassy waters thinned from a murky brown to a crystal blue. Soft sand speckled the shores and the trees loomed green overhead. We had made it to our destination. It wasn't easy, but we made it.
We paddled to the northernmost point of the island (and when I say point I mean it.) There was a strip of sand fifteen feet across, a peninsula of sorts, hemmed in by the gentle Gulf waters. We unpacked the Kayaks, set up the tent, blew up our air mattress and settled in. The only thing left to do was to experience the journey!
It seemed all good and well while the sun was up, but after a magnificent Gulf sunset, it was time to Trust God. The bugs wasted no time in swarming us. We retreated to our tent, which was sweltering. We couldn't get enough air to circulate and the bugs had no problem making it through the mesh. We covered ourselves with our blanket (now draped in sand) and tried to sweat out the duration of the balmy night. Cindy didn't seem like she had too much trouble resting, but I did. I knew that high tide was at 10:30 and I was starting to second guess my choice of location for the campsite. It was 8 oclock and the waters were five feet from our tent. It was already pitch black and with two kayaks, a tent, and lots of gear, the last thing I wanted was to pick up and haul down a long sandbar while everything floated away from us.
Cindy kept telling me to just trust God, He wouldn't have led us to such a spectacular place if He didn't know what He was doing. Yes, yes, that was all good in Sunday school, but this was the real world, and I pitched the tent! I was responsible for her safety! I wasn't buying it...
Somehow I did doze off somewhere. I don't know when it happened, but the next thing I knew it was 10:40 and the waters had not reached our tent. They were close, but we seemed to have the high ground (by an inch or two.) I still was having trouble sleeping though. It was so hot, and the sand coated the air mattress. It was like trying to sleep on top of and with sandpaper. Even Cindy felt like salty sand paper.
Again, I somehow fell asleep, but not for long. It wasn't the bugs in my eye sockets that woke me up this time, it was a brilliant, not so distant, even blinding flash of pure white light. You know, the kind that instantly blinds you for a few seconds? "Cindy! Rain fly now!" We ran out of the tent, grabbed the rain fly and began hooking it up. One of those pop up storms was racing in on us. We hurriedly covered the mesh on the tent and dove through the zipper door. No sooner did we, when the rain pummeled our poor tent. It was like setting up a camp beneath a waterfall. FLASH! BANG! The thunder shook the ground like an earthquake. Every few seconds another lightning bolt exploded from the heavens. This was bad. It was like no other storm I had ever seen. In fact, I wasn't seeing it. I buried my head in the pillow, trying to lay as flat as possible so as to not give the lightning any advantage in striking me. I have never been afraid of storms (I wanted to be a storm chaser) but the caliber of this storm mixed with being the highest point on the beach sent my nerves over the edge. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I put my arm around Cindy, because if we were to die I wanted to die holding her. She was calm. My heart was about to explode. The tent buckled in and bowed as wind gusts shaped the tent around our heads. Rain began to drip through the seams. I pinched at the rain fly through the walls, waiting for it to be hurled into the ocean at any moment. Cindy just kept saying, "It's ok, trust God." "I want to! But I can't!" was the only thing in my mind. The wind, the waves, the power of the lightning, and the unknown blackness that shrouded the beast hammered home the realization that I was not in control, at all. If I wanted to live, I needed to pray. So I kept it up. I felt like a soldier, caught in a fox hole, taking mortar fire, not knowing if the next one was his. It was terrible. I could not slow my heart beat. A little voice in my head almost mockingly cajoled, "Don't you know I can calm the storm?" "Yes, Yes I am aware! So do it!"
The storm took its time and lasted about an hour until it moved over the expanse. Immediately, I realized something. I realized that I trust God, but I don't Trust God. It's not that I don't trust God for his provident, nourishing, gracious, merciful, and benevolent hand, I just have a problem (as I'm sure we all do) when all is out of my control. I have trouble trusting in God and His plan when it seems to involve blasting me clear off a beach into a churning black abyss where no one will ever know that I need help. Yes, I struggle with that one.
On the plus side, the rain cooled down the tent and dismissed all the bugs from our general vicinity, so despite the ones hanging out with us in the tent, we were comfortable enough to get some more sleep. Another blessing in disguise I guess.
Needless to say, we had enough of that experience to last the journey, so we packed everything back into the kayaks the next morning and hit the water. I am not doing justice to the great part of the experience however. The sunrise was phenomenal, like none we had ever seen. The same with the previous night's sunset. I could not imagine a more picturesque sight. We didn't even want to take pictures of them, because that would only detract from taking them in. Anyway, it was time to go, but we weren't done trusting God.
Clouds were building on the horizon and I was still pretty shell-shocked from about 5 hours ago. Urged by the reasonable, not too hot yet temperatures, we set the course. Only one problem. The tide wasn't working how I had planned. It was running against us, as well as the wind, and the waters were pretty choppy (a little too choppy for our 9.5 foot sit-in kayaks.) Cindy felt confident, however, and spurred me on, compelling me to see the breeze as a refreshment. I don't know how she has such a positive outlook, but I guess that's why God joined us together.
It was a trying journey. Two and a half hours and nearly five miles of against the tide and wind paddling left us famished, but we did it! We hugged each other, kissed and realized that we had did it! We lived out something we had dreamed of doing. I had mixed emotions though. I couldn't tell if I had loved the experience or hated it, but I think that living with all the things that I hated caused me to love it beyond any experience I had ever lived.
We drove down the Gulf coast, basking in the air condition, stopping at a restaurant we had seen featured on the Food Network. We ate to our heart's delight, and afterward drove all the way down to Sarasota.
The story doesn't end yet, but I will be brief. The previous night, we learned how to trust God. We were shaken out of our comfort zones (literally) and we prayed and prayed and prayed for our Father to take care of us. As we made it out alive and down to Sarasota, He did. We decided camping sucked. So we went on Priceline and booked their mystery 4 star hotel deal. And for $87 dollars we ended up in the Hyatt Regency overlooking the marina. It was the most accommodating hotel stay I had ever had. The pool was ridiculous, with two story waterfalls and even one that dumped heated water into a Jacuzzi! It was awesome. They even had a gas burning fire pit. Cindy wanted to roast the remainder of our marshmallows on it and as we arrived back in our room, we were shocked to see that the staff beat us there, and delivered a kit for making Smores, fully equipped with all the fixin's and large skewers. God was providing (they also gave us about $10 worth of free soft drinks and bottled water.)
We went out that night to get some dinner, and settling small just grabbed a pizza. Afterward, we walked to the beach to try and catch some fish. As we strolled atop the cool sands, echoing from the night was a familiar tune. Some voices were raised singing, "Oh happy day, happy day, you took my sin away!" That was a Christian song! I knew that one! We hastily walked over to the circle where people our age were wielding a guitar. They slid over, made room for us, and we finished our song together. We spent the rest of the night getting to know these young Christians, and one particularly, Troy, who I really connected with.
He shared testimonies about how he had trusted God and took risks, by heeding the voice of God and simply following it. At one point in His life, He left his job in south Florida, gathered his belongings and moved his family to Jacksonville. They had no money and no place to stay, but God's voice guided them to a church and even to some people that would eventually offer to house them. Admittedly, the skeptic in me, had been slightly curious of his stories, that is, until he started naming the names of people that I knew. He must have mentioned ten different people that he and I had in common, and one family which I knew, housed him and his wife for four months! This was validation that I could just trust God by listening to that almost mocking voice and be fine! It was too crazy. God had completely blown our minds at that point. We worshipped the rest of the night and Cindy and I relished in the experience that we had just encountered.
It was a wonderful thing. We hadn't made it to church that Sunday, but God didn't let us go without getting some church in for the day. We needed it! It hit me like a ton of bricks afterward. People should not be concerned with finding a church, the church should be concerned with finding people. Our experience on the beach was right in line with Biblical Christianity. A small gathering of local believers accepting, loving, and sharing their faith with anyone who passed by their thankful song. I wondered what it would be like if we didn't put so much effort and priority on buildings, programs, and productions and enabled more believers to live out such authenticity in the public sphere. What would happen? How would the Holy Spirit move?
All in all, we didn't realize that when we said we wanted to "Trust God and take risks" and "Experience the Journey" we would be stretched to actually doing so. God really called us to rely on Him and when we did He showed off big time. This past weekend was a short weekend, but felt like a week long vacation. It wasn't the money we spent, neither was it experiencing the journey, as much as it was experiencing the God that set us on the journey that made the trip. I am glad that He is overseeing it. I can rest in that (or at least try to.)
In the spirit of some core values that we had recently settled on in our Lifegroup (Sunday school), we chose to live out core values #5 and #8. "Trust God and take risks" and "Experience the journey." #5 is pretty self explanatory, but let me describe core value #8. "Experience the journey" is a break from what society feeds us. As twenty-somethings, it is incredibly easy to be washed over by a torrent of things that just don't matter in the end. We end up worrying about school, relationships, car loans, credit cards, relationships, and other stuff that will just cloud your thinking. Experiencing the journey is experiencing this life. It is a reminder to give yourself some time and some space to just relax, take it all in, and enjoy the life and world that God has given us. It's not the accumulation of wealth or stuff that matters, it's whether or not you experienced the journey.
Those values are what set Cindy and me on a course to Anclote Key. It's a 4.77 mile paddle across the Gulf of Mexico. The island is uninhabited so we would be without amenities, but we would have stunning panoramic views of the Gulf via our sandy campsite. We checked out what other people were saying about camping at Anclote and the common complaint was, you guessed it, the bugs. Not only was that an issue, but apparently the island was prone to sudden storms and the last place you wanted to get caught in one was in a sit-in, not-too-sea-worthy kayak. Cool... That's totally trusting God and taking risks...
We woke up 5 am, hopped into the car with the kayaks pressed firmly into the roof and made the two and a half hour drive to Tarpon Springs. I must say, we were rather disappointed after the beautiful weather we were having all morning disintegrated to a cold, blustery rain upon reaching our destination. I figured God had closed that window, but we had just purchased a tent and all of our camping supplies! We weren't ready to give up, but when we learned that we couldn't park overnight at our intended launch point, we figured it was a blessing in disguise...
After an excellent lunch at a Greek hole in the wall, we made it to our Plan B; a boat ramp down on the tannic Anclote river. Another blessing, the rain had kept some of the Labor day crowd away. The boat ramp was not yet overrun.
We had no idea where the island was, but we saw a faint stretch of trees on the horizon and decided to "Trust God and take risks" and figure it out when we got there. We loaded down our kayaks, fed the parking meter, and alas, we were two love birds afloat with all the stylings of sea-faring hermits.
The thunder rolled in the distance as we slid through glassy waters. Fish darted in and on top of the shallow grass flats we made our way over. I cast at some, hooking a few, but only to lose them at the boat. It was a lovely way to start our journey.
About two hours later, the grassy waters thinned from a murky brown to a crystal blue. Soft sand speckled the shores and the trees loomed green overhead. We had made it to our destination. It wasn't easy, but we made it.
We paddled to the northernmost point of the island (and when I say point I mean it.) There was a strip of sand fifteen feet across, a peninsula of sorts, hemmed in by the gentle Gulf waters. We unpacked the Kayaks, set up the tent, blew up our air mattress and settled in. The only thing left to do was to experience the journey!
It seemed all good and well while the sun was up, but after a magnificent Gulf sunset, it was time to Trust God. The bugs wasted no time in swarming us. We retreated to our tent, which was sweltering. We couldn't get enough air to circulate and the bugs had no problem making it through the mesh. We covered ourselves with our blanket (now draped in sand) and tried to sweat out the duration of the balmy night. Cindy didn't seem like she had too much trouble resting, but I did. I knew that high tide was at 10:30 and I was starting to second guess my choice of location for the campsite. It was 8 oclock and the waters were five feet from our tent. It was already pitch black and with two kayaks, a tent, and lots of gear, the last thing I wanted was to pick up and haul down a long sandbar while everything floated away from us.
Cindy kept telling me to just trust God, He wouldn't have led us to such a spectacular place if He didn't know what He was doing. Yes, yes, that was all good in Sunday school, but this was the real world, and I pitched the tent! I was responsible for her safety! I wasn't buying it...
Somehow I did doze off somewhere. I don't know when it happened, but the next thing I knew it was 10:40 and the waters had not reached our tent. They were close, but we seemed to have the high ground (by an inch or two.) I still was having trouble sleeping though. It was so hot, and the sand coated the air mattress. It was like trying to sleep on top of and with sandpaper. Even Cindy felt like salty sand paper.
Again, I somehow fell asleep, but not for long. It wasn't the bugs in my eye sockets that woke me up this time, it was a brilliant, not so distant, even blinding flash of pure white light. You know, the kind that instantly blinds you for a few seconds? "Cindy! Rain fly now!" We ran out of the tent, grabbed the rain fly and began hooking it up. One of those pop up storms was racing in on us. We hurriedly covered the mesh on the tent and dove through the zipper door. No sooner did we, when the rain pummeled our poor tent. It was like setting up a camp beneath a waterfall. FLASH! BANG! The thunder shook the ground like an earthquake. Every few seconds another lightning bolt exploded from the heavens. This was bad. It was like no other storm I had ever seen. In fact, I wasn't seeing it. I buried my head in the pillow, trying to lay as flat as possible so as to not give the lightning any advantage in striking me. I have never been afraid of storms (I wanted to be a storm chaser) but the caliber of this storm mixed with being the highest point on the beach sent my nerves over the edge. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I put my arm around Cindy, because if we were to die I wanted to die holding her. She was calm. My heart was about to explode. The tent buckled in and bowed as wind gusts shaped the tent around our heads. Rain began to drip through the seams. I pinched at the rain fly through the walls, waiting for it to be hurled into the ocean at any moment. Cindy just kept saying, "It's ok, trust God." "I want to! But I can't!" was the only thing in my mind. The wind, the waves, the power of the lightning, and the unknown blackness that shrouded the beast hammered home the realization that I was not in control, at all. If I wanted to live, I needed to pray. So I kept it up. I felt like a soldier, caught in a fox hole, taking mortar fire, not knowing if the next one was his. It was terrible. I could not slow my heart beat. A little voice in my head almost mockingly cajoled, "Don't you know I can calm the storm?" "Yes, Yes I am aware! So do it!"
The storm took its time and lasted about an hour until it moved over the expanse. Immediately, I realized something. I realized that I trust God, but I don't Trust God. It's not that I don't trust God for his provident, nourishing, gracious, merciful, and benevolent hand, I just have a problem (as I'm sure we all do) when all is out of my control. I have trouble trusting in God and His plan when it seems to involve blasting me clear off a beach into a churning black abyss where no one will ever know that I need help. Yes, I struggle with that one.
On the plus side, the rain cooled down the tent and dismissed all the bugs from our general vicinity, so despite the ones hanging out with us in the tent, we were comfortable enough to get some more sleep. Another blessing in disguise I guess.
Needless to say, we had enough of that experience to last the journey, so we packed everything back into the kayaks the next morning and hit the water. I am not doing justice to the great part of the experience however. The sunrise was phenomenal, like none we had ever seen. The same with the previous night's sunset. I could not imagine a more picturesque sight. We didn't even want to take pictures of them, because that would only detract from taking them in. Anyway, it was time to go, but we weren't done trusting God.
Clouds were building on the horizon and I was still pretty shell-shocked from about 5 hours ago. Urged by the reasonable, not too hot yet temperatures, we set the course. Only one problem. The tide wasn't working how I had planned. It was running against us, as well as the wind, and the waters were pretty choppy (a little too choppy for our 9.5 foot sit-in kayaks.) Cindy felt confident, however, and spurred me on, compelling me to see the breeze as a refreshment. I don't know how she has such a positive outlook, but I guess that's why God joined us together.
It was a trying journey. Two and a half hours and nearly five miles of against the tide and wind paddling left us famished, but we did it! We hugged each other, kissed and realized that we had did it! We lived out something we had dreamed of doing. I had mixed emotions though. I couldn't tell if I had loved the experience or hated it, but I think that living with all the things that I hated caused me to love it beyond any experience I had ever lived.
We drove down the Gulf coast, basking in the air condition, stopping at a restaurant we had seen featured on the Food Network. We ate to our heart's delight, and afterward drove all the way down to Sarasota.
The story doesn't end yet, but I will be brief. The previous night, we learned how to trust God. We were shaken out of our comfort zones (literally) and we prayed and prayed and prayed for our Father to take care of us. As we made it out alive and down to Sarasota, He did. We decided camping sucked. So we went on Priceline and booked their mystery 4 star hotel deal. And for $87 dollars we ended up in the Hyatt Regency overlooking the marina. It was the most accommodating hotel stay I had ever had. The pool was ridiculous, with two story waterfalls and even one that dumped heated water into a Jacuzzi! It was awesome. They even had a gas burning fire pit. Cindy wanted to roast the remainder of our marshmallows on it and as we arrived back in our room, we were shocked to see that the staff beat us there, and delivered a kit for making Smores, fully equipped with all the fixin's and large skewers. God was providing (they also gave us about $10 worth of free soft drinks and bottled water.)
We went out that night to get some dinner, and settling small just grabbed a pizza. Afterward, we walked to the beach to try and catch some fish. As we strolled atop the cool sands, echoing from the night was a familiar tune. Some voices were raised singing, "Oh happy day, happy day, you took my sin away!" That was a Christian song! I knew that one! We hastily walked over to the circle where people our age were wielding a guitar. They slid over, made room for us, and we finished our song together. We spent the rest of the night getting to know these young Christians, and one particularly, Troy, who I really connected with.
He shared testimonies about how he had trusted God and took risks, by heeding the voice of God and simply following it. At one point in His life, He left his job in south Florida, gathered his belongings and moved his family to Jacksonville. They had no money and no place to stay, but God's voice guided them to a church and even to some people that would eventually offer to house them. Admittedly, the skeptic in me, had been slightly curious of his stories, that is, until he started naming the names of people that I knew. He must have mentioned ten different people that he and I had in common, and one family which I knew, housed him and his wife for four months! This was validation that I could just trust God by listening to that almost mocking voice and be fine! It was too crazy. God had completely blown our minds at that point. We worshipped the rest of the night and Cindy and I relished in the experience that we had just encountered.
It was a wonderful thing. We hadn't made it to church that Sunday, but God didn't let us go without getting some church in for the day. We needed it! It hit me like a ton of bricks afterward. People should not be concerned with finding a church, the church should be concerned with finding people. Our experience on the beach was right in line with Biblical Christianity. A small gathering of local believers accepting, loving, and sharing their faith with anyone who passed by their thankful song. I wondered what it would be like if we didn't put so much effort and priority on buildings, programs, and productions and enabled more believers to live out such authenticity in the public sphere. What would happen? How would the Holy Spirit move?
All in all, we didn't realize that when we said we wanted to "Trust God and take risks" and "Experience the Journey" we would be stretched to actually doing so. God really called us to rely on Him and when we did He showed off big time. This past weekend was a short weekend, but felt like a week long vacation. It wasn't the money we spent, neither was it experiencing the journey, as much as it was experiencing the God that set us on the journey that made the trip. I am glad that He is overseeing it. I can rest in that (or at least try to.)
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