As we move down the river of life, sometimes paddling, and sometimes
Moved only by the current, and sometimes
Tossed by rapids and whirlpools, and sometimes
Striking a rock, or an underwater log, and sometimes
Raked by an overhead branch,
We still grab onto our paddles, and try to move out of harm’s way and
Into the peaceful deep pools of clear water.
After all these years, we feel we are experienced rivermen,
Somewhat used to navigating our ways through the rapids, and
Able to avoid the dangers that may lurk ahead, and sometimes
We find ourselves thrust into a side channel, or into the
Worst of a rapids.
And, we almost always make it through, even after getting
Raked by the branches, or tossed about in the rapids, or even
Striking a rock and nearly capsizing.
And even if we overturn, we have our wits about us, and climb back in,
All wet, but little worse for the wear, and able to grab our paddles again,
Dig in, and set our boat back on course.
Of course, this journey is best undertaken with good friends,
Friends you can rely upon to dig hard and deep to move the boat into the
Best place in the rapids, or around the big boulder that lies dead ahead.
Friends who will laugh with you when its over, and help build the campfire at night,
Telling stories and jokes, and making you feel good about yourself, and
Proud of what you accomplished in the day, even though you fell
Overboard, and got soaked, scratched, and bruised.
Your friends know who you are and what you are made of, and
Believe in you, no matter how rough the waters, or how cold the rapids,
Or how sharp the sticks are in the brambles by the side of the river.