“An empty boat”.

Niyaha - My home built plywood Pirogue.

My commute no longer takes me over the Black River Bridge anymore. It’s much less scenic as I mindlessly drone down the highway. Yet when I think of what it means to be far from God; either by neglect of spiritual disciplines, on account of a particular trial, or those times when nothing is wrong yet everything is wrong, I think of those mornings that took me over the river, longing to “get out there” but continually being pulled by responsibility to the mundane. At any rate, when I am feeling far from God the following is what I think of.


“So many mornings, as I drive over the Black River Bridge; I see the fog rolling off the water. The sun with its orange hues forced upon the clouds, just peeking above the horizon preparing this small insignificant place for its impending brightness. Its here that I wish I was sitting in a small wooden boat, cautiously paddling in and through the reed lined marsh, looking for you hidden in the quietness. I hear you call to me, - come, come. And yet I continue on to face life’s distractions alone. Leaving you hidden in many waters, and me still yet further away.


(Lord, are you still there?)


I am comforted in these times of perceived emptiness with the end of the following verse:

Psalm 139:18b (NASB)^18 …. “When I awake, I am still with you”.

Luther.