Our Raft
In our younger years we construct a raft to journey the River of Live. Planks of religion, nails of ideology; all bonded together by proper thinking. During the early moments of our journey this make shift raft serves us well.
It keeps us afloat,
It keeps moving,
It keeps us safe.
We are so sure of our raft’s construction that we boast in the raft itself. We take great pride that our raft has conquered the Mighty River. We see the imperfection in the rafts of others and so with a naïve servant’s heart we tell others to build a raft like ours.
We know how, we know why, and we know the way.
Yet as we journey the course, we make a most terrifying discovery:
The water we have been traveling this entire time is but a small inlet off a branch to the Mighty River. As we move closer to the full flow of the River itself, the waves bombard us, testing the full integrity of our ship, seeping into the raft’s cracks of confidence and assurance.
Afraid, we double our efforts, patch the holes and mend the sails with the same material of the rafts construction. Surprisingly to us, this doesn’t work. What we cannot see is that these materials are of the land; mere human ingenuity.
So many turn back to safer, calmer waters. Waters that give clear vision to its shallow bottom. Waters we’ve traveled over and over. These waters pose no threat. Much to our liking, in these waters we see our own reflection; and we are smitten. In these waters we may be king, but it is all self-made. We’ve seen and tasted the fullness of the River yet convince ourselves, and others, there is nothing worth moving towards and we become a phony in every sense.
An Emperor-Captain with no clothes.
Others, are not interested in a “retreat” to the waters in which they came. With strength, grit, and determination they hunker down in an effort to tame the River. Curiously amused by our display of tenacity, the River tosses us around; a play-toy in the bathtub of life.
“Like hell!” We say and keeping pushing against the playfully powerful rushing force. But our small raft is no match for the River. We now find ourselves wrecked; and it is our own doing. Our precious raft shattered to pieces while we are left stuck on the rocky shore. With our fellow survivors, Anger, Blame, and Self-pity, we curse our raft, curse those who said it would work, and curse the River itself. And there we will be, all the days of our life; shaking our fist from the River’s shore; embittered, angry… hell bent on ever giving in.
Yet there is another way to dance with this River. Maybe our raft was never the point and maybe conquering the River never our purpose. Something else then…
To be lost in the flow.
The River, great, ever expanding, growing in love, generous and benevolent is beckoning, inviting, teasing, and wooing us all. Our raft is needed to get us out of our port harbor but once we reach the Rivers edge our raft strangely becomes a hindrance (that which held us up is now holding us back). While to us the River’s ways seem to be destroying our raft, life itself, It, in actuality is trying to remove our encumbrance and invite us in.
No raft need.
This is the moment…
Where we give over our life…
To find…
Life.
Here in these perfect waters there is no reason to fear, no reason to be anxious. There is no enemy, only brother and sister. No scarcity to feed competition, only equity, shalom and plenty of room for all. There is no successful future to engineer for we are now in union with What Was, What Is, and What Shall Be. There is no identity to self-construct for we have been engulfed in the All. This is the movement of deep waters. Full of mystery, full of wonder, full of discovery, full of terrifying beauty, full of the now and not yet, and full of Love.
Won’t you come in?
