(c) 1987 Kenneth R. Wade. All Rights Reserved.
Steven and his father had been to town and purchased a month's supplies. Now their boat, powered by the father's strong arms, carved a passage toward their home on Beaver Island.
The boy lay on a sack of potatoes at the stern, dangling his fingers in the water, watching minimaelstroms twirl and spin.
Suddenly he sat up, turned around, and looked past his father, toward the island. He watched as home grew closer, then leaned over the starboard side and watched the water pass. A moment later he had changed to the port side. Then he wiggled beneath his father's seat, and made his way to the bow.
Each time the boy moved, shifting the balance of the boat, the father compensated by applying more power to one oar or the other, and the boat continued its chalkline progress.
Steven hung over the bow and stared at the water for a moment, then, attracted by the sound of an engine, looked off to the right. A fisherman in his outboard-powered boat cut across their path a hundred feet ahead. The fisherman stared resolutely forward until he was just in front of the rowboat, then turned, flashed a smile, waved, and turned back to study the shoreline ahead.
His wake rolled toward the smaller boat, then picked up the bow and slapped it down a few times. The boy crawled to the stern again and sat facing his father. "Dad," he said, "Are there paths through the water?"
No, son, the water is always moving. You can't make a path that will stay."
The boy gazed thougtfully at the sun-dappled lake.
"Then how do you find your way?"
"What do you mean son? It's easy to find your way on the water, because you can see all around you."
"The fisherman who just went by--he was looking where he was going. You never turn around to look where you're going, but we always get back to the island. . . . When I asked you how you found your way through the woods, you showed me the blaze marks on the trees."
"Oh, so you're wondering where the blaze marks are on the water?"
"Yes."
"And you've looked all over and haven't found any?"
"No."
"Have you looked behind you?"
"Yes, but the water there is moving too."
"You haven't looked far enough behind, Son."
The wake from the fishing boat had just reached the shore as the boy turned and looked behind him. The wake hissed here and slapped there as it crawled along the uneven waterfront.
"Do you see the place where two white birch trees are growing together near the shore?" the father asked.
"Yes--their trunks almost make a V."
"Yes, those are the ones. Now look up the hill, almost to the top--straight behind us--do you see the fir tree sticking its head up above the aspens?"
"Yes."
"You watch those until we get home. Then we'll talk about it."
The boy turned and knelt in the bottom of the boat, resting his elbows on the stern seat.
Fifteen minutes later they had arrived home and carried the supplies inside for Mom and the sisters to put away.
"Come down to the dock with me, Son," the father said.
They sat down and dangled their legs over the edge, looking back toward the shore they had come from. "Can you still see the trees?" the father asked.
"Yes."
"Have they changed any?"
"They look smaller."
"But is the fir tree still directly above the birch trees?"
"Yes."
"That is how I find my way through the water. When we leave the shore, I row over to where those trees line up in a straight line. Then I keep my eyes on them, and as long as I keep them lined up, we arrive right here at the island."
"But the fisherman who went by us today--he wasn't looking back, he was looking forward."
"Yes, and later today you will see water skiers on the lake. Watch where they look, and then this evening we will talk about it."
Steven and his father sat on the edge of the dock and watched the sun go down that evening. "Did you watch the water skiers today, Son?" the father asked.
"Yes. I watched them with the binoculars."
"Which way did they look?"
"Sometimes they looked toward the boat, and sometimes toward the shore. But I think a lot of the time they were looking at the water, getting ready to jump the wake and things like that."
"They didn't look back?"
"No."
"And they didn't look forward past the boat?"
"I don't think so--not very often anyhow."
"We can make a parable out of what you saw today Son. Think of the people on the lake as being three kinds of people you will meet in life. Some are always looking to the future, planning for something great to happen when they find just the right circumstances--like the fisherman looking for the best place to fish. They never take time to look back or learn from things that have happened in the past.
"Others never look far into the future. They just ski along, taking the advice of others, or following others, trying to get the most fun they can out of whatever comes into their path. They never take time to look back either.
"I take life more slowly, and guide myself by what I can learn by looking back. I think that this is the best way to live, for I need not depend on sheer luck to find the place I want to be. And I don't have to depend on other people or the whims of the moment to guide me to where I want to be.
"Do you understand what I am talking about?"
"I think so," Steven replied. But does that mean we should always be thinking of the past, and not planning for the future?"
"No. When we leave the shore, we know where we want to be in the future. But we guide ourselves to where we want to be by knowing where we have been. A very wise man once said something like this: 'Those who do not understand history will make the same mistakes others have made instead of learning from them.' We must understand the past in order to lay wise plans for the future."
"But what do you mean by understanding the past? I can't remember back as far as you can."
"We can learn from others' experience as well as from our own. Tonight I will begin to tell you the story of an important man who lived thousands of years ago. His life was a journey toward a mountain top, and for me that mountain is a guidepost on the horizon of my life. In fact it makes two important marks on the horizon. I have lined up my life on Mount Moriah, and it has helped me to stay on a straight and true course through life. I hope you will want to line up your life on Moriah too.
"We must understand not only where we have been, but where others have been as well. We can learn from their mistakes and good decisions. I hope that his life can be like a tree on the shore to you, to help you cut a straight course, and to have a good life."
Someday I'll write more of this story. It's supposed to be part of a book about Abraham and what we can learn from his story about finding God's guidance in our lives. But I have to admit it's been several years since I've worked on this particular project. It's still in the back of my mind, and I will write more someday...