October 8
Reminders at Lost Creek
As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God. The time of my death is near. I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.
2 Timothy 4:6-7 (NLT)
We were in search of the mighty King, and we thought we’d catch a glimpse of him, here, in what looked like fairyland. I stretched my leg high over an ancient, fallen fir—the huge log blocked our way through the old growth, Cascade forest. The trees were dressed in rich shades of green, their dark branches arched high and sported the backlit splendor of sea-green colored moss. Entranced, we followed the snaking, bark-chip covered path. The steady noise of running water filled our ear as the narrow trail took us past the fat darkness of Douglas fir whose roots lunged from the black soil and clawed at our feet. These became our steps as we descended to the cool-flowing creek below. This was Chinook country and we were here to see the King Salmon spawn. I wondered if we would.
We were 1,800 feet above sea level and some years the salmon returned after three or four years in the ocean by making this hard journey up the McKenzie to this crystal-clear, fast-running estuary we called Lost Creek. Would this be one of those years?
As we stepped past the last of the big fir, we were not disappointed. Two fish, no make that three, almost three feet long and weighing maybe 25 pounds faced the oncoming rush. Their tails looked electric, sweeping back and forth. The bright white line running down their backs was stress induced and looked like a bright, undulating chalk line on a blackboard. They were beat up and worn out, but they held their place in the water and swam gracefully even in their final hours. These had finished their amazing journey, fulfilled their design, and we were in awe!
Then I made the connection.
I am 51 years old and I wondered: when will I leave the comfort of my own deep blue sea and head upstream? When will my toughest battles come? Will I endure and find my final success? Today the King Salmon reminds me: my calling is to be faithful no matter what—like Paul, like these majestic creatures—fulfilling my design, enduring the cold realities and the steady, uphill climb to reach the cool, clear comfort of a safe and distant shore.
Father, sometimes life seems so hard until I remember You designed me for this and You watch over me. Help me on my way Lord. Help me remain faithful to my task. Amen.
Reminders at Lost Creek
As for me, my life has already been poured out as an offering to God. The time of my death is near. I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.
2 Timothy 4:6-7 (NLT)
We were in search of the mighty King, and we thought we’d catch a glimpse of him, here, in what looked like fairyland. I stretched my leg high over an ancient, fallen fir—the huge log blocked our way through the old growth, Cascade forest. The trees were dressed in rich shades of green, their dark branches arched high and sported the backlit splendor of sea-green colored moss. Entranced, we followed the snaking, bark-chip covered path. The steady noise of running water filled our ear as the narrow trail took us past the fat darkness of Douglas fir whose roots lunged from the black soil and clawed at our feet. These became our steps as we descended to the cool-flowing creek below. This was Chinook country and we were here to see the King Salmon spawn. I wondered if we would.
We were 1,800 feet above sea level and some years the salmon returned after three or four years in the ocean by making this hard journey up the McKenzie to this crystal-clear, fast-running estuary we called Lost Creek. Would this be one of those years?
As we stepped past the last of the big fir, we were not disappointed. Two fish, no make that three, almost three feet long and weighing maybe 25 pounds faced the oncoming rush. Their tails looked electric, sweeping back and forth. The bright white line running down their backs was stress induced and looked like a bright, undulating chalk line on a blackboard. They were beat up and worn out, but they held their place in the water and swam gracefully even in their final hours. These had finished their amazing journey, fulfilled their design, and we were in awe!
Then I made the connection.
I am 51 years old and I wondered: when will I leave the comfort of my own deep blue sea and head upstream? When will my toughest battles come? Will I endure and find my final success? Today the King Salmon reminds me: my calling is to be faithful no matter what—like Paul, like these majestic creatures—fulfilling my design, enduring the cold realities and the steady, uphill climb to reach the cool, clear comfort of a safe and distant shore.
Father, sometimes life seems so hard until I remember You designed me for this and You watch over me. Help me on my way Lord. Help me remain faithful to my task. Amen.
posted by Craig Soderquist at 7:26 PM
