Resurrection Day

Resurrection Day

The sun rises; the tomb is empty; a new day dawns.

Some find only confusion in an empty tomb.

Others venture forth with wonder.

Others still know the gift of second chances and new opportunities.

This Easter was a day to experience a certain amount of emptiness, wonder and newness. It is the first Easter in 30 years that I have not preached or led worship. While it was odd to realize that, it was nice to worship from the other side. And how wonderful that worship actually came to me this morning. The local UCC church had their sunrise service here at the camp. Another great thing was sunrise for them was 8am (I’m sure the sun was rising somewhere about that time).

Another new venture for me on this resurrection day was to do my very first solo paddle. That may seem like an odd thing, and maybe no big deal. But you have to understand from the first days of swim lessons and canoeing, you just never did things in water by yourself. You always had a buddy. There had to be at least one other person swimming with you. You always canoed with others. It was a matter of safety even if it was an inconvenient rule. I’ve lived with this inconvenient rule for 50+ years, not so much because I follow rules (if you know me at all, you know I often push limits). But this rule actually made sense to me, and truthfully, when it came to water, I have always been content to let someone else take the lead.  I have enjoyed the luxury of having scout leaders or guides or good friends who know the ropes and could make the plans. I was just lucky enough to go along for the ride.

Well, it is a new day. I have begun this journey of solitude that will take me over 5000 miles before I’m done. My only companion on this trip is my Cape Falcon F1 kayak. If I’m going to use it and enjoy the water between here and the Pacific Ocean, I not only have to break my lifelong rule of never doing water alone, but I also have to step up and be the responsible one.

Today I did just that. I broke the rule and I stepped up. I had to do some homework to find possible put-in points on Canyon Lake. I had to think about what looked like the safest place for me to paddle on a lake unknown to me that I knew would have speed boats. I only had myself to make sure that all the right gear was packed. I had to figure out the timing and remember where it is I left my car so I could find my way back. These are all things I have taken for granted, trusting in the competency and knowledge of others. Today the tomb was empty. I could either wander in confusion or venture forth with hope and wonder. I chose the later and I am happy to say, all went well on this first solo adventure on the water. I paddled mostly in the cove of Comal Park. I did get the bow of my boat out into the main lake but decided I really didn’t want to compete with the speed boats. The ones I encountered in the cove were enough to make me wary.

It was a beautiful day to be out: calm breeze, warm sun, good water. Canyon Lake is at least 8 feet below normal levels due to the drought, so at the lower end of the cove was a forest of eerie trees rising out of the water. Barren and white against the blue skies, they provided a haven for birds, a few fishermen and one lone paddler. I spent about 90 minutes out on the Lake and then came back to the right spot. My car was right where I left it. That was one of my biggest worries – finding my way back to the put-in. It is amazing how different landscapes look out on the water. I had discovered out on the bay, paddling with a dear friend, that perspective gets mixed up and navigating can be tricky when relying only on your senses. It was a proud moment of relief for me today to find my way back safely to the right spot along the endless shore.  

And the wonder of the day continued. One of the mentors from my youth lives nearby the camp. I ran into an extended family member of his and was invited to join in their Easter celebrations at the ranch. Just about everyone from this family that I had admired and adored as a youth and young adult were going to be there, including my mentor, Frank. It was a precious gift today to be with people. After just a couple of days of solitude, I was in need of human contact and not just any human contact, but humans who knew me. It was a joy to hear the ventures of folks and see new generations of this family chasing after eggs hidden in wonderfully green and colorful places. It was also a real gift to be encouraged on this journey ahead. I know I go held in the prayers of many. That makes all the difference as tomorrow I travel west.

Resurrection Day

The sun rises; the tomb is empty; a new day dawns.

The empty spaces are nothing to fear

I can venture forth with wonder.

And trust the gifts of second chances and new opportunities.

Happy Easter, y’all