Who's driving this boat?

We like to think we are in control of our lives. We like security and certainty. We work our whole lives to obtain these things but are they really obtainable? Our lives are like a boat headed down the river of life. We think we are driving and in control. If we see an obstacle we can steer around it. But there are unseen obstacles in this river of life and we never know what trouble they bring. Life is fragile and it could come to an end at any moment. The question is who is driving your boat?

I was planning to head to a church anniversary in a remote community called Nuevo Jerusalen. Traveling can be difficult to plan here and I had planned to travel to Balsapurto to meet a Shawi pastor, Alberto, at 8:00am Tuesday morning at the bridge. I was coming by road and he was coming by canoe to pick me up. But at 1:00am it started raining, and not the gentle Indiana type of rain but the jungle pouring buckets type of rain. At 4:30 I finally got out of bed and the rain had not let up one bit. The road I was supposed to travel is dirt so rain makes it very difficult to travel. Jennifer called the transportation company that travels the road to see if they were traveling in spite of the rain. They said they were going that morning but would not leave until they had a full vehicle which might be awhile as no one goes out in the rain. Jennifer gave them our number and said to call when they were full. They finally called at 6:30am, and we got out of town at 7:00am, two hours late. I had no way of contacting Alberto to tell him I was late as there is no cell phone service in his community so I had no idea if he would be there or not. But I did not worry because I am not driving this boat, God is.  The road was bad but we got through. The driver would stop and wade through the standing water in the road to check the depth before passing through and the worst spot was only knee deep. We finally arrived at the bridge at 10:30am and there sat Alberto in his canoe in the rain with a smile on his face. He told me that he had waited since 8:00am and not a single car had passed through so he figured the road was closed due to rain. He had just turned the canoe around to leave when he heard the sound of a vehicle coming and waited. It was me. I am glad I am not driving the boat.

The church at Nuevo Jerusalen.

We headed to his community to pick up his family and another pastor that was traveling with us. When we got there the rain came again and we decided to wait it out. He said that we needed to get going by 2:00 to travel the four hours to Nuevo Jerusalen before dark and that if the rain did not quit we would just wait until morning. At 1:00 the rain quit and we took off in the canoe. We were about two hours into our journey when we saw an approaching dark cloud. Thunder and lightning and driving rain followed and we were helpless in the little canoe. We could do nothing but continue on through the storm. It was so cold that my teeth chattered and I shivered and I thought it would be ironic if I died from hypothermia in the jungle. But finally the rain passed.

As we neared our destination Alberto looked at me and said, “the river is rising.” “How do you know?” I asked. “Look at it,” he replied. I looked but it just looked like the same old river I had been staring at for hours. “He doesn’t know what he is talking about,” I thought. Well I was wrong because about 20 minutes later I began to notice a change in the river. It began churning and frothing, the current picked up speed and the water began coming at us in waves. Soon I watched the banks begin to erode right before my eyes. He was correct, the water was rising.

 The house where 12 of us stayed.

It was then we reached our destination and I was glad to be off the river. They showed us to our house for the week, which somehow they had forgot to build with walls. Then they invited us into a kitchen to warm up by the fire. This was very unusual as the kitchen is a separate hut from the house and guests are almost never invited into the kitchen. I was very thankful.

A typical Shawi house on the right and kitchen on the left.

The men said they were going to kill a cow for the anniversary and invited me to come. Silly me I said yes thinking the cow would be near by but I was wrong. We walked, (they walked, I ran to keep up) 45 minutes through thick jungle to reach the cow pasture but the cows were missing. The pasture is just a clear cut area in jungle. There is no fence as the jungle is thick enough that the cows usually don’t wonder off. We searched till dark and found three cows but never found the forth which we had intended to slaughter. I think he knew we were coming and hid. We then returned to the village back down the path in the dark without flashlights. The path had been cut for the average Shawi man which is about five-foot-tall so about every three steps I got a branch in my face. Not to mention the fact that due to the heavy rains the entire path was mud and standing water. Needless to say it was a tough hike back in the dark and a fruitless adventure.

The church decorated for the anniversary.

After a change of clothes, they fired up the generator and the evening church service began. We worshiped until about 11:00pm. Exhausted, I was glad to finally climb into my hammock for the night. But the night was only beginning as the winds picked up and the rain returned. In our little house without walls the wind and rain whipped right through and I froze. I climbed out of the hammock and curled up in a ball on the floor to try to escape the wind and rain. I laid there freezing and thinking, “why didn’t we wait until tomorrow to come?” We wouldn’t have froze in the boat and could have slept in a house with walls. Eventually morning came and as I looked toward the river I received my answer. The river had risen 12+ feet overnight and was extremely dangerous. There were full size trees, roots and all, swiftly washing down from the nearby mountains. If we wouldn’t have come the day before we may have not made it. Praise God I am not driving the boat.

Photos of the Yaniyacu River taken during flood and 18 hours later.

The next day was full of church services. We had service from 9:00am till 2:00pm then had a break for lunch and soccer. At dark the services began again and they announced it would be a vigil or all night service. For these long extended services, we had worship, then preaching, prayer and more worship. Then we had a 20-minute break for chicha before repeating the process again. I was able to preach twice and was blessed by their enthusiasm for worship and the word of God. I made it till 2:00am before I just could not stay awake any longer. You know your tired when you fall asleep standing up during worship. At 5:30am they quit, the last two hours they abandoned preaching and just worshiped to stay awake. Then we all packed up, said good byes, climbed into our canoes and left. The waters of the river had dropped significantly since the day before and were now safe to travel. As we headed down the river I realized that the driver of our canoe had not slept all night. Yet I was not worried because obviously I was not driving the boat.

Me and my new friend.

Nine hours later I made it home. It rained the whole way. The last three hours I spent in the back of a pick up truck with 10 other people in the pouring rain. I got home cold, wet and covered in mud from pushing the truck. But in spite of the difficulties my heart was full because I know who directs my paths, I know who is driving my boat. My prayer is that this story is encouraging to you. My prayer is that we all can place our trust fully in the One who drives the boat.

Trust in the lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5-6