the river

Just over a year ago, Nathan and I were celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary while our whole gang of kiddos was up at overnight camp. Our anniversary is actually in June, but we had planned a bit of a getaway while the kids were away, and wildly as part of it, we decided to do some white water rafting on the Ottawa Valley River. It’s only “wildly” because it’s a bit random for us - we’re not really sporty or even that outdoorsy of people, and Nathan was fascinated that I had chosen rafting as an adventure for us to undertake. We had actually also just learned of my gastric cancer diagnosis about a month before that, but somehow all things considered we decided it would be a good adventure and drove ourselves to the river to dive in for the fun :).

As we were getting ready to embark in our raft with our group, about six others and a guide, they began going over the standard safety pieces of what to do if your raft tips, if water comes in, if you end up in the rapids, etc. The guide was calmly talking us through all the worst-case scenarios, and Nathan and I just kept glancing at each other across this large yellow raft, raising our eyebrows, thinking, um… what exactly have we done here…?
But you know, they have to say all the things as part of the safety protocol, and none of them are actually likely to happen…. right??

Well… as it turned out, that was not how it went down…
Down the river we began to go, and we successfully negotiated the first of the rapids together as a team. It was a big crazy, but our guide told us that was the biggest one and that we had done awesome. Then, as part of the experience, he had us turn back towards the rapid to kind of ‘surf’ the boat a bit more on the rapid itself before we kept going. You work together as a group to intentionally coast up into the rapid, and ride the wave with the front of the boat being mostly submerged - really not that enjoyable for those sitting at the front!
While we were doing this, in an event that our leader would later tell us literally has not happened to him in over six years, our raft flipped entirely up into the air, and every single one of us ended up in the river, several, including me, trapped underneath the giant, overturned raft in the middle of the rapids.

It was terrifying. Truly.
I could not get out from under the boat for several minutes, and each time the raft would rise and fall with the rapids, my head would be pushed underneath the water by the boat one top of me - losing my breath completely, losing my sense of position, losing my ability to reason in any way. I did not know what to do and I was truly paniced for a few moments that I was going to drown. Nathan told me later that he watched me go up and over his head into the river, before the raft landed on top of me and the others. Several others in our group were yelling, also terrified, and somehow we were all trying desperately to remember the ‘we-didn’t actually-think-we’d-need-it’ emergency training we had received an hour or so before.

After a couple of failed attempts, I did at last manage to take a big breath and swim out from underneath the raft. Very quickly after that large hands grabbed me by the life jacket and pulled me up onto another raft that had come to our aid.
Everyone was safe, everything was okay. It was all over and back to calm probably in less than ten minutes, but holy-cannoli friends, it was way, way more excitement that we had bargained for!

After the whole ordeal - still smiling :)
August 2024

There is so much about how we experience life that has to do with our expectations going into it.
I think everything from how much we enjoy a certain movie or book, to how we experience and remember holidays with family, or how we perceive ourselves in certain relationships and interactions can all be setup and partially determined by our expectations going in.
What we’re expecting matters. So it’s right and good and important for us to ask and consider the questions:
What are we hoping for? What are we expecting of and from our lives?

And sometimes the expectations can help. In the case of the river and our ‘safety prep’ talk, we theoretically should have been prepared for what happened …. though that didn’t end up being how it worked out in this case lol.
Expectations can temper us, but they can also disappoint. Sometimes the things that we’re longing or hoping for are so misplaced or so out of whack with reality that it sets us up to be undoubtedly disappointed. And this is not how we want it to be. I certainly don’t want to live my life always feeling let down.

And I’ve been thinking about how our perspectives on what comes in our lives, our ability to hold the range of experiences, good and bad, hard and beautiful, is largely dependent on where we’re grounding ourselves underneath it all. What is it that we’re hoping for? What are we waiting for in the midst of our daily lives?
What are we longing to be different?
And how is that setting us up, both in what we’re expecting and also how we’re experiencing the ins and outs, the ups and downs, the many, many pieces that make up the tapestry of our lives?

Because our lives are beautiful, friends. And they’re happening right now.
We don’t want to miss them because we’re wrapped up in some way in false expectations, or because we’re placing our hope and longings in places that are always going to disappoint and come up short.

And the wonderful news is - it doens’t need to be that way! In fact, there is a hope and an expectation that will never disappoint if it’s where we put our focus.

Romans 5:1-5 says this:
Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.

We can ground ourselves here and be sure that our expectations and our hope will never be unmet. How amazing is that!


I’ve been thinking a lot about that river too.
The wide, gorgeous, wild Ottawa Valley River. And it took us for a bit of a tumble early on. I wasn’t sure for a minute if we could be friends. But as the day went along, the river wooed us back to her. She is a beauty - changeable from calm to fast, mostly untouched along the banks as we went down, with unending trees lining the shores, amazing rock formations, one incredible view after another. Despite the small trauma that marked the early part of the day, it ended up being a day of great beauty, of soul-saturating peace, of pure delight in what God has made and how he delights in pouring out marvels simply for us, his beloved, to enjoy, to soak in, to savour.

At the end of the rafting part of the day, they gathered us up onto a couple of large pontoon boats, fed us a delicious warm dinner, and cruised us back up the river while we snuggled up to get warm with cups of tea and coffee in hand. It was magical. It was a such a good day. It was unexpected, but lovely.

What are you hoping for?
Where are you placing your certainty and your longing in the midst of your days?

I truly believe that how we answer these questions will form our lives.
And I believe that we absolutely cannot go wrong when we place all of our hope, all of our longing, all of our certainty on the truth of who Jesus is, and who he has made us to be.

We can focus on the raft, the rapids, the experience of being thrown into absolute chaos - and in heightened moments, of course these are the actual things that we’re thinking about. It only makes sense that when we’re in the midst of the crazy, it takes up our attention and informs how we’re responding.
But then we have a choice, lovely ones, to lift our eyes. To see the whole river. To witness the goodness that is also present in the midst of the same experience. To see the ways God is bringing life and light, purpose and presence, and it’s all happening right where we are, if we have eyes to see.

The goodness of God is so vast and so immersive, we can spend our whole lives expecting is, longing for it, experiencing it, and never run out.
His depth of love and care for us is unfathomable. We simply cannot get to the end of it, no matter how hard we may try.
So when we place our hopes, our certainty, our expectations in that sure-ed-ness of that love, we are never disappointed or let down. How marvellous it is.

I have been feeling this rich goodness of God surrounding me in so many ways over the last days and weeks.
Since being home from the hospital, with all the care and adjustments we’ve been making, I have been feeling so much better. There are things that are not awesome or wanted still for sure - some rapids in the mix - but I am feeling much more like myself, able to be present with our family, able to do some things that I enjoy, able to see the ways God is caring for me in this part of the river as we roll along.

Our kids were up at camp again last week and it gave some lovely time for Nathan and I - both for needed appointments, but also to have good space to feel and think and process together. God’s timing and care in so many of these small but significant ways feels like another kind of beauty to me, and I’m so thankful for all the intricate ways he knits together our well-being.

I was able to have a semi-permanent drain put in this past Friday at the hospital, which we’re so thankful for. While we were there they drained just under four litres of fluid from me again, and I cannot tell you how relieving it was. I weighed myself when we got home and it was about ten pounds worth of weight gone just like that! A huge difference in how I can move around, eat, and function in my own body.
Going forward then, the nurses coming to our house are able to regularly drain, which should keep it from getting so intensely pressurized. It’s definitely still not ‘normal’; I’m more like 5-6 months psuedo-pregnant instead of 9, but truly team, I’ll take it. It’s way, way better.

We also had appointments with a few of our other doctors, all of which were hard but good conversations. We’ve decided now to stop doing chemo treatments again at this point. When we hold up what we’re just potentially gaining from those treatments at this time, against the cost of having to go weekly to the hospital for more than one appointment, plus the side effects of the chemo itself, is was not weighing out to a good plan for this chunk. We feel good and settled about that decision, and so we’ve moved from active treatment into a time of managing symptoms from the cancer, and doing what we can to increase my comfort and capacity in any ways that are helpful.

And I do feel pretty good overall. It’s a lot of resting, a lot of sitting, a lot of not-doing still. But I feel okay, and I’m so thankful to be actively present in our home, to feel more like myself, to be able to lift my eyes more easily to see the whole river and rejoice in the goodness of God that is meeting me with each day.
There is so much goodness in the mix, and while I find myself feeling many a thing still for sure, a deep well of thankfulness is right there too. There is beauty here. And it’s unexpected, but it’s lovely.

I found the author of the prayer that I shared in my last post; it was written by Stacy L. Sanchez and I was able to get her small book that is a called Gracious Heavenly Father: A Collection of Morning Prayers.
She writes beautifully, and I wanted to share another one from her here that has resonated deeply with me this week:

Gracious Heavenly Father,
Thank you for choosing to abide with me.
With the presence of Your precious Holy Spirit,
I am never alone.

Never alone in my weakness.
Never alone in my fear.
Never alone in my sorrow.
Never alone in my suffering.
Never alone in my thoughts.
Never alone in my abilities.
Never alone in my tasks.
Never alone in my responsbilities.
Never alone in my decision making.
Never alone in my coming and going.
Never alone in my calling.
Never alone in my living.
Never alone in myself.

You are here.

You are with me
You are before me.
You are behind me.
You are beside me.
You are among me.
You are WITHIN me.

Thank you, Father.
To be indwelled by Your Spirit,
to never be out of Your care, out of your sight,
out of your presence -
what a precious gift, what amazing peace,
what a beautiful God You are.

I praise you, Father.
I rejoice in your companionship.
I delight in your love.
I marvel at such a God as You.
Amen.

photo credit: Kyle Mesdag on Unsplash

Praying you can lift your eyes to see the whole river today, lovely friends.
Praying you know the deep care and love of Jesus with you in ways that make a difference to what you’re hoping for, and how you experience the beauty that is your one wild life.

So thankful for the space to share. So grateful for your ongoing prayers and love.
L xo