Entering In

Posted by J on Sep 23, 2012 in J Posts | 4 comments

I decided to solo pilot a wooden rowboat for the first time this week in the middle of a seasonal gale on Lake Windermere. As if there weren’t enough rainbursts, shallow water buoys, and expensive watercraft to look out for, I spiced up the maiden voyage by propping up my fancy digital camera on the passenger seat to shoot a video goodbye to the Lake District.

The rowing experience didn’t go well – and the story, for another time, involves the tragic loss of a new umbrella that fell overboard … to the delight of a packed tourist steamer, traveling quickly near to my aft, on its way to the other side of the lake.

Here is the goodbye that I’d hoped to say:

Lake Windermere has been crossed by humans for centuries. That’s at least what I read on a signpost along the lake that tourists have been passing for generations.

Two weeks ago, my family’s journey brought us to the Lakes. We were ready to cross through, too – unpack, hike the hills and dales, teach World School, see what Wordsworth once saw, build fires while it rained outside, repack, and move our adventure along to the next stop on our itinerary.

But something happened: we were INVITED IN.

A conversation with Lynn one afternoon on a hiking trail outside our rental home led to Sunday morning worship at a local church where people like Ian and Danielle and Chris and Robin and Michael and Mike introduced themselves to us which led to an evening of singing along with a gospel choir which led to a stairwell conversation and prayer with Mike about an upcoming surgery which led to a Tuesday morning of prayer in the church vestibule which led to dinner with Robin and Michael and Annie and Lucy and Sam (and Becks) which led to fellowship at Si and Di’s house with Shelly, Irm, Michael and Robin which led to S playing piano for the worship team practice Thursday night. That’s a span of just five days.

We have been embraced. We have been loved. We have been shared. We have been fed. We have been led. We have been supported. We have been served. We have been invited in to and ENTERED IN to the Lakes community. We let go. We were held up. And the experience has been deeply and sweetly freeing for our souls.

It’s the kind of feeling I think the boys expressed on a hike this week over the ridge of a mountain range. The five of us were alone. The path seemed infinite. And they let loose. They whooped and ran and laughed. They ENTERED IN to the beauty and the vastness and the power of the scene. (“Further up, further in!”) They let go. And – on a very powerful level – they were embraced, loved, shared, fed, supported, served … and held up.

Somehow, these Lakes weeks have affirmed for us that there is a Plan for our journey.

And – that surprising things sometimes come out of failed rowboat voyages.