A Tale of Two Rivers
Today, where I live, all is calm. The sky is cloudless, the days warm but not too warm, the nights cool but not too cool. My town and its surrounding communities are quiet. Football is back, and baseball is inching towards conclusion. Leaves are still greening trees, boats still rocking gently in their moorings. Kids are back in school, learning to read, write, count, and make new friends. For those not touched by tragedy, in these fleeting moments, all seems right with the world.
One summer when I was 15, I spent a week at a camp in the Colorado mountains. Early on a sunny morning, we campers were driven to a river and launched from the muddy bank on inner tubes. We loved it! The water moved us along at a steady clip, and we laughed and sang as we bobbed among the rocks and currents. Earlier that year, John Phillips (the main Papa of Mamas and Papas fame) had released a hit song called “Mississippi.” Most of the lyrics didn’t fit our situation, but it was the upbeat river song of the moment and for those few short hours became our gleeful anthem.
We were taken to the river on a bus and retrieved downstream by the same bus. On the return trip, we were wet, happy, and thrilled to have connected with nature in a way most of us had never done before. The currents had moved us along briskly. At times we hit whitewater, but we did not encounter any waterfalls and sensed no danger. Just a fun and joyful ride from point to point.
I feel like we’re all floating along that river now, with one major difference. Somewhere up ahead we will encounter a fork. One stream keeps us on a manageable course and the other takes us into turbulent waters. In the unseen distance, the turbulence leads to a disastrous waterfall. Some among us will seek out the smoother course and follow it. Others will choose the one that holds the promise of more adventure. All are happy now, enjoying the ride and the companionship of their like-minded companions. But some may come to regret the decisions they soon will make.
The truth is, we’re not each floating along in our own vessel. Instead, we’re all riding together in one boat. Which course the boat takes, and what fate its passengers meet, will depend on which group gets to determine the boat’s direction.
Most of us don’t like having our fate decided by others. We especially don’t like having it decided by people whose choices we think are foolish. But that’s the price of democracy. We’re all riding in the same boat and every rider’s choice will (and should) count. It’s cliché to say it, but we truly are all in this together.
As we enjoy these waning days of summer and look forward to the comforting routines of fall, there is little time left to pay attention, little time to test the waters and try to persuade others to follow the better course. I hope and pray we use the time wisely, making our decisions with the seriousness that they deserve, and understanding the consequences of an ill-considered choice.