Prairie dwellers blest with the luxury of wide open spaces may find it difficult to understand the geographic limitations of living beside the ocean. I'm not complaining, commiserating or soliciting compassion, I'm just explaining that what was once a relatively short distance to the next major piece of land has now become a day's journey.
In simple language, here's what I'm talking about: Effective yesterday, what used to be a less than a two hour journey from my home to the city of Courtenay on Vancouver Island now takes ten hours. Each way. Where once there were choices in sailings, now there's just one return trip per day and that involves a forty minute drive south of town, three hours sailing, followed by an hour's drive north. One way. Six hours sailing plus nearly four hours driving, cities to terminals and back, makes for a very long trip.
We're excited about the temporary inconvenience, though, because it means we're in the process of getting a new and much improved pair of terminals. On "the other side", the existing terminal is being repaired; here, our dock is in the process of being completely rebuilt. The work is costly in money and inconvenience but the results will be a far more efficient and beautiful place to enter and exit our marine highway.
All this makes me think of my journey through life. Some of the most inconvenient and at times, painful, detours in my personal journey have turned out to be the most valuable in terms of lessons learned. How could I have learned to trust the safety of God's care if everything I'd leaned on hadn't collapsed? How could I have experienced peace if I'd never known warfare?
If the journey is difficult, my friend, remember, "all [your] ways are [fully known] before Him." (Psalm 119:168)
