Last Summer, my family and I took a repeat vacation in Grants Pass, Oregon to see the river again.
The popular Rogue River traverses, among others, the towns of Grants Pass, Shady Cove and Rogue River. We stayed in my sister Beth’s house which by the way has an astounding view of the city below. Before this trip, we took our first there in summer of last year. One may ask, why go back? Let me answer with a question too. If one had real fun the first time wouldn’t one want to come back? Of course, it’s a no brainer.
The State of Oregon is a place for the nature lover. It has several green towering mountains, lots of outdoor activities like trail hiking, biking, fishing, camping, and the best one of all – whitewater rafting at the enigmatic Rogue River. We are told that it is the best rafting river in the whole of America and Canada.
On our first trip last year, Steve Bonner, we heard is the best boatman-rafter in the area, took us through a rented boat that accommodated all eight of us. His personal boat can only take about four people. He got us a medium size one. We set out to the river with him as our boat helmsman. Disclosure: Steve is my brother-inlaw. This not only gave me assurance of his tender loving care of his precious human cargo but I had full confidence because our boat captain is the best there is. Before embarking on the treacherous river, Steve briefed us saying there are six categories of rafting difficulty on the Rogue River. Class 1 and 2 are the mild tour, straightforward rapids, fast moving water with big ripples and waves and a high degree of survival but with much fun and excitement too. While 3 and 4 are the medium type with also a plus level of survival rate, but complex maneuver in fast currents. High degree of skill and boat control is required. However, this class has an upgrade of fun and challenge. The 5 or 6 levels, are the supersize of extreme violent rapids; it gives you less chance of coming out alive, so he said. Under this class, rescue is very difficult for the experts. My goodness. For rookie rafters like us, we already knew after hearing him which tour to take, class 1 and 2 of course. Categories 3 and 4 may be good for the next time, given a high motivation. My daughter Kristine will surely take this given that among her siblings of four brothers she is the most adventurous. Nah, surely 5 and 6 were not for us even if each had the sure promise of super-duper adrenaline high. Who would want to put himself to a position of hanging on to dear life in violent rapids? That’s crazy.
So, we set out to the rough and tumble over the river. Our boat captain made sure that we had a taste of the roughness of the Rogue River. Why else did they named it Rogue if it didn’t live up to its name? The river stretches some 215 miles. Of this, some 124 miles are wild and scenic which is the playground for the roller-coaster rafting buffs. We just took five miles for greenhorn like us. On the course of the five-mile run, we were scared, we were excited, we were all wet, heart-pumping, pulse-rising and nerve-racking all throughout. The five-mile run took some four hours, enough for the rookies to get really, really exhausted. Before this I didn’t think that a body of water can give you an effect of treachery, excitement, and life-endangering episodes all rolled into one. It was an intense and exhilarating experience of a lifetime. It was worthy to include in one’s bucket list, as I did before.
Riding on the river, I experienced a mixed feeling of excitement and panic, of challenge and boldness. But the dominant sense of all was the spurring reality of peace and quiet within me. Inspite of the pleasant uproar of onrushing water, one can actually separate the diverse sounds that pervade one’s consciousness. There is the rustle of leaves off the mostly cedar and fir tree forest beyond the riverbanks, bird tweets on the background, the inobtrusive but fierce quarrel of the bald eagle and osprey, commonly known as river hawk, on who had the right to win the prized fish prey to feed their hunger for the day, other people in distant view in their gliders going quietly downstream. In another stretch of water, I saw an eagle perched at the zenith of cedar tree, wide-eyed on the river below for the chance to pounce and hook its next meal. Above all this I sensed the stillness and peace, only to be disturbed off and on again whenever the helmsman maneuvers the boat into the onrushing waves and screams ensue and explode from his wide-eyed crew of paddlers. Volumes of water speeding up against the rubber boat starboard, water splashing through our collective faces, all drenched and fearful and excited and amazed.
Remembering that episodic experience now, the river run I surmise is similar to life journey. The rushing waves, the river as a whole remind me of our dealings in life. In series of constant enormous waves, the river appears bent to capsize our boat just like our problems and issues. Except for the constant sound of water drain and tumultuous surge, I can separate the stillness from the intermittent windy flaps of river gulls and hawks. In between the turbulent waves, I felt the lull as quiet and peaceful. Life has respite too, nothing seems to go on. What we expect or plan does not happen. Problems like waves come and go. Then we are back to peace and quiet. Often, we ignore our surroundings and precious relationships due to our struggles through waves after waves of issues.
The river teaches us to reflect on our life situation and the Creator who is greater and much concerned about us personally. Amidst the chaos and perilous journey in life, know that God is in control. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. He will never leave you. Like the helmsman, he controls the boat and our surroundings. There is a story in Matthew 8:23-26:
“Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.
This truth of God’s intervention in our life has been and still is being fulfilled in many ways among the faithful. God continues to be involved in the events of our life. He commands the waves and turns the storms to calm in every facet of our life.
In closing, some of God’s over a hundred questions to Job (in the book of Job 38) comes to my mind.
“Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone— while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy? Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt? xxxxxxx Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea or walked in the recesses of the deep? Have the gates of death been shown to you? Have you seen the gates of the deepest darkness? Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth? Tell me, if you know all this. What is the way to the abode of light? And where does darkness reside? Can you take them to their places? Do you know the paths to their dwellings? Surely you know, for you were already born! You have lived so many years! Have you entered the storehouses of the snow or seen the storehouses of the hail, which I reserve for times of trouble, for days of war and battle? What is the way to the place where the lightning is dispersed, or the place where the east winds are scattered over the earth? Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain, and a path for the thunderstorm, to water a land where no one lives, an uninhabited desert, to satisfy a desolate wasteland and make it sprout with grass? Does the rain have a father? Who fathers the drops of dew? From whose womb comes the ice? Who gives birth to the frost from the heavens when the waters become hard as stone, when the surface of the deep is frozen?
Nobody, even if a thousand scientists were assembled and made to ponder the answers to these questions. None. For me I can only rest on what he said in this powerful statement in Psalm 46:10: “Be still and know that I am God”.