It's just a bump in the road

So here's the deal.  My dad just went into a nursing home.  He's 89.  And I guess the smart money would say that he probably won't be able to rehab to the point where he can go back home to live with my stepmother.  So how do you deal with that?  How should I feel about that?

This is my coping mechanism.  I'm planning to go on a wilderness canoe trip.  With my dad.

We used to do that every year when I was growing up and in my early adult years.  My dad was a very strong guy.  After I got married Nancy went on two of these trips with us.  On the first trip, while Nancy was carrying a pack in this swampy area, she suddenly found one of her legs sinking into the mud too deeply to get out.  I mean she was absolutely stuck.  Going nowhere.  And wondering how she was going to get herself out of this.  And here comes my dad, probably in his early sixties at this point, coming down the trail behind her.  He has his own pack on.  And without breaking stride he grabs the corner of her pack with one hand and all of a sudden Nancy and her leg are being levitated out of the mud.

Not only is my dad strong, he is a great fisherman.  One year I decided to mimic him the whole trip.  When he fished, I would fish.  I would try and throw my lures in the same general area where he threw his.  I would use the exact same bait he used.  By the end of the week he was more than 20 fish ahead of me.  I have no idea how he did that.  On the second trip we took together he asked to be let out of the canoe so he could go up this creek that was emptying into the lake we were on.   I thought the creek was way too shallow to have anything interesting in it, but about a half hour later he comes out with three big bass on a stringer.

So how do you take a man who is confined to a nursing home on a canoe trip?  Obviously you don't.  I'll have to wait until after he's dead.  And then I'll have to wait a little longer until after I'm dead.  And then I'll have to wait until the resurrection.  And then we'll go on the canoe trip.  Accompanying us will be my younger brother who used to take these trips with us.  He has a bad case of MS and, barring a miracle of divine healing, won't be taking any more canoe trips in this life.  (I neither predict nor rule out such a miracle.)

The lakes will probably still be there, but we'll need a new map and we'll have to start from scratch in terms of learning exactly where the best fishing holes will be.  I would expect the topography to be radically transformed.  There is this major event that will happen (in my theological opinion) immediately after the resurrection of the Christian dead (the rapture) but before we (the resurrected Christians) actually return to this planet.  "And the stars of the sky fell to the earth … and every mountain and island were moved out of their places."  (Revelation 6:13, 14)  This may be the most terrifying physical event in human history and I would expect it to dramatically rearrange those wilderness lakes.

Nancy and I just got back from our 24th Rocky Mountain Honeymoon.  We've been on 25 trips to the Rockies, but one of those trips involved other people, so it doesn't count as a honeymoon (hi Scott & Linda!).  To count as a honeymoon trip is has to be just the two of us.  When I was a younger man I put together a string of about 25 wilderness canoe trips.

So how many trips can we expect to take after we're dead and brought back to life?  Well, the Bible speaks of Christ returning to the earth and ruling the planet for 1,000 years.  If that is a literal 1,000 years I would hope to put together a string of about 1,000 mountain trips and 1,000 canoe trips (I'll be taking at least two trips a year!).

Can I tell you a little secret about our just completed mountain trip?  We took it easier than we used to.  For the first time, instead of disappearing into a wilderness area carrying everything we need on our back for a week we took two small trips of three nights each.  That means we only had to carry half the food at one time.  And instead of driving home non-stop (one drives while the other sleeps) we drove part way and spent the night in a nice motel, almost the kind of thing you would expect normal people to do on their vacations.

We're getting older.  The day may come when we won't be able to do anything but car camp.  And then the day may come when we won't even be able to do that (I'll pitch a tent in the back yard of the nursing home!).  And when that day comes it will be time to start planning the next 1,000 trips.

Here is an amazing statement, one you should spend a lot of time meditating on.  "I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us."  (Romans 8:18)  The man who wrote that statement had been whipped so many times that he couldn't have had one square inch of skin on his back that wasn't pure scar tissue.  Over the course of his ministry he had received 195 lashes on his back as a punishment for preaching the gospel.  Every single one of those strokes would have broken the skin (this was over the course of five different whippings).  He was also beaten with rods three times (I don't know how many strokes) and stoned once.  He survived three shipwrecks, and in one of those he spent 24 hours clinging to a wooden plank in the middle of the ocean.  In addition to this he experienced "many sleepless nights, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure."  (See 2 Corinthians 11) 

And after enduring all that he said that there was something waiting for him after he died that would make all of the suffering seem like it was nothing.  It would be like someone offering you a brand new Porsche for $25.00.  The sufferings of this life are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.

So my dad's body has finally failed him and he's in a nursing home.  But that's not the end of anything that really matters.  It's just a bump in the road.  Join me as I write (in advance) one of the trip notes from a trip that won't even happen until after the resurrection. 

"Our first evening in the wilderness.  We had a rugged day of travel to get to this lake, and we've found a decent campsite on a small island.  The topography is all different and we are going to have to find campsites and fishing holes from scratch the way we always have when we travel into a new wilderness area.  While Dad and my brother Wayne and our two sons set up the tents I cooked supper over a wood fire.  Then we headed back out in our canoes with our fishing poles."

"As usual, Dad just knows where the fish are.  You would think that I should be able to figure this out by now but I still don't have a clue.  There is something so beautiful about the way the fishing line undulates out off the end of the rod as the bait goes flying across the water.  As we fished we were serenaded by the eerie cries of a loon at the other end of the lake.  We brought back five Walleye for breakfast.  Day one.  Trip one.  999 trips to go.  Thanks be to God."