Of Sleepless Nights, Canoes, and Ants

It's true.

I'm becoming partially nocturnal. At the beginning of the summer, I was a regular Benjamin Franklin: early to bed, early to rise. For most of July, I just didn't sleep much at all. And now, I just sleep during abnormal hours: usually between 2 and 9am. I'm sure Scheske is going to deeply appreciate this new pattern of secretion that my pineal body has chosen when it comes time for 8am Calc this fall.

In other news, I'm seriously missing camp. I miss coming home (well, "home") from work and hanging out with some of my best friends. I miss spending time with Jesus every day at the dock. I miss doing my own dishes and cooking for myself. I miss the campers. I miss having the constant support of Christian friends just across King's Highway. I miss singing (shouting?) to my Jesus while surrounded by people who are crazy about Him, too.

I love Dave Overholt. He pastors this church in Ontario - someday I'd love to visit! But anyway.
He was the speaker for Sr. High camp last week, and I was able to sit in on most of the services. I heard him speak seven years ago when I was a camper, and nothing about him has changed. There's one point from one of his messages this past week that stands out to me more than anything. It's funny, too, because it's such a duh statement.

He told a story about how he decided that a camping and canoe trip would be an excellent honeymoon for him and his wife. (At this point, Deb and I agreed that camping wouldn't be a bad honeymoon at all.) Everything went okay until the water got really choppy and the waves started coming into the canoe. His wife freaked out a little bit and stopped paddling, and he was left to steer from the back. However, he realized that steering was impossible when his wife wasn't paddling forward. Did you get that?
You can't steer a canoe unless you're moving forward.
The same is true in life: God can't steer you unless you're moving forward.

Nonetheless, he followed the canoe story by reminding us about the ant.
You know, the ant.
The ant that focuses on moving that massive crumb, bit by bit. It's all the ant lives for, really: to slowly but consistantly gather food. We need to be like the ant in our lives, understanding that things don't happen all at once and sometimes we just need to press on. Sometimes life moves slowly, but over time big things happen.


WHOA.
You mean it's okay not to do everything at once? It's okay not to race through life?
Whoa.
I am typically the kind of person that says, "Screw the ant and bring in an excavator. I've got things to get done!" This was such an incredible reminder, though, that I need to slow down. I need to find joy in every single day I'm given. I don't need to have the next ten years of my life planned. God has it taken care of, and He wants me to just chill.

And yet He needs me to keep taking little strokes with my paddle so He can steer.