On the River

Rock of Remembrance

During the week since we arrived in New Zealand I’d made a couple of sneaky trips into town pretending I had this or that errand. Hoping to keep Eden off the scent while I looked for primo engagement gold.

Found it. Bought it. Perfect. Then, unexpectedly, on the drive back I decided I wasn’t waiting until tomorrow. Umm ok, what now man?

My best plan so far had been to propose during the next week, probably on top of the Mt Hutt ski-field once we were down in the South Island visiting my sister and her family on their beautiful Canterbury sheep & deer farm. Super romantic in theory. Breathtaking views etc. In terms of real-life logistics it was fraught with risk.

Too many teenage nephews around who’d love nothing better than to muck up uncles mushy plans for laughs. The ring being found and hidden, or otherwise meddled with. And with winter weather in the mix, Mt Hutt might even be closed or under near zero-visibility low cloud.

No. I wanted my ring on her finger today. June 21st, 2010.

Something romantic, but private. Neither Eden nor I are into public carry-on when it comes to intimate things. So: where can I get her on her own today, somewhere beautiful and also epic, and pull this off before dark?

Lake Karapiro dropped into mind.

More specifically, that beautiful wee sidecreek opposite Findlay Park. Off the main river channel, up through that narrow gorge with the glowworms.

That felt right.

I’d borrow Dad’s ute, chuck my Johnson outboard and Porta-Bote on the back, and we’d be there after a quick eighty minute blat south. Being winter now we wouldn’t want to get wet, but I reckoned I could get us there and up the river to a flat grassy spot on the creek bank, propose before full dark, then drift back through the glowworm-spangled gorge after Eden said yes.

Assuming the creekscape hadn’t changed since my first and only visit about two and a half years ago, it should do nicely.

Back at my folks farm, I parked the Corolla and ran in to ask the Babeden if she was keen for an adventure.

It was a given. Adventures and Eden are a thing.

Told her we must hurry because it was getting late and smelt like rain within an hour or two, so better wrap up warm. Grabbed the ute keys and started gathering and loading gear, while trying to keep a big guilty grin off my face.

The plan was to take my awesome folding porta-bote.

As I opened my storage container by Dad’s tractor shed, I realized, this will take too long to unload, assemble, and launch at the river. A little too fiddly when daylight’s fading. Plus, the ting-ting-ery of my outboard wasn’t exactly the most romantic soundtrack for the occasion.

Suddenly, I remembered my bro-in-laws Canadian canoes stored in his shed down the opposite end of my parents farm.

That’d be quicker.

Simpler.

Quieter out on the water too.

We shot down the race while calling my sister to ask if we could borrow one. Got the yes so loaded it up. Stopping in Cambridge forty minutes later for fuel, we picked up a pizza and snacks, then carried on with the final forty toward the far end of Karapiro. The weather was doing the classic Waikato thing where it couldn’t quite decide what season it wanted to be. Drizzling lightly as we drove on, it eased off once we arrived. Sweet!

When we had the canoe at the water’s edge, Eden asked - which seat?

Handing her a paddle, I said “the front one of course!”

Remembering to grab the pizza, I got in the rear and pushed off.

Right then I’d no idea anything unusual was happening beyond my plan to propose. Hopefully without tipping us out and losing the ring to the river beforehand.

What I did know was that the whole thing felt right.

We paddled carefully across the current to the opposite bank where I soon located the sidecreek. Then ten minutes more sploshing up to the, already dimming, tight deep gorge and out the other end where I was relieved to soon come upon a wide dry grassy patch we could disembark onto.

Enjoying the pizza and snacks, I noticed Eden took very nicely to the chocolate Tim Tams. As the light faded and stars started showing, I pulled out the poem I’d written a few days earlier, lit a lighter to read by, and did my best not to sound like a complete muppet. Apart from burning my thumb it went well.

Then, under my favourite Swazi beanie, and sporting my faithful ‘ole Skellerup raincoat and gumboots, I asked her to marry me.

YES!

Perfect fit to finger despite guessing her size. We embraced then climbed back into the canoe. Laying side by side on top of our life-jackets and resting our heads on the rear seat, we drifted slowly back downstream through utter darkness apart from the glowworms who lit up both sides of the gorge above us like it was our own mini-galaxy.

Unforgettable.

But it didn’t end there.

A couple days later Eden was at the dining table reading back through her journal and was surprised to find something she’d recorded more than a month earlier.

On May 11th she was with her friend Kelly during their last gathering with pastor Todd Roberts at the Open Doors coffee shop in Madison, OH. She’d asked for prayer as she prepared to leave the nurturing world of INSIGHT and step into whatever came after graduation. Todd had prayed these words over her:

“You think this leads to a time of disaster but it doesn’t, it’s leading to a time of revelation. I see you sitting in the front seat of a canoe. For me, that signifies entering a time of rest. Just walk it out. Enjoy this next part of the journey. Enjoy the ride. Always a journey with Him. His grace poured out. Going to a new place, first time down the river, enjoy the sights and sounds... It will propel you into the next season of the journey.”

Eden had written it down, tucked it away in her journal, and forgotten about it.

I’d never read her journal. Well, not since that one time in Uganda :)

So when I changed to a canoe at the last minute, told Eden to get in the front seat, and took her down a river she’d never travelled before, neither of us had any idea we were floating on a word God had already spoken over her.

That’s what makes this one of my rocks of remembrance.

Not that I managed to pull off a romantic proposal.

But that God had spoken ahead of time, and then quietly arranged the scene more precisely than either of us could imagine.

The front seat of a canoe.

Down a new stretch of water.

The next season beginning.

Wow.

That level of intimate knowledge encourages a man’s heart.

It proves that when God is in something, He’s not only present in the broad outline. He’s able to go ahead of you into the finest of fine details — even the details you change at the last minute won’t surprise Him.

He’s not thrown by our improvisations. He’s often the source.

We realise afterwards that we’ve been walking straight into and through His kindness.

No small thing then.

Still isn’t.



P.S. My nephews did work tricks. But that’s another story. . .