Before I write about the final day of paddling in the Boundary Waters, I wanted to tell about something else that was part of the process. Phil had arranged ahead of time for a different person to provide a spiritual meditation for the group each day. At some designated point, usually before paddling, we would take the sheet of readings and meditation prompts, wander off by ourselves, and spend a few minutes in prayer and thought. This was a fine component of our time in the wilderness… with each other… alone… with God. It was an important time, and I appreciate what each one shared. Here are the thoughts I shared with the group (ironically?) on the morning before the Saturday of big wind:
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Proverbs 8:22-31
22 The LORD brought me forth as the first of his works, before his deeds of old.
23 I was appointed from eternity, from the beginning, before the world began.
24 When there were no oceans, I was given birth,
when there were no springs abounding with water;
25 before the mountains were settled in place, before the hills, I was given birth,
26 before he made the earth or its fields or any of the dust of the world.
27 I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep,
28 when he established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep,
29 when he gave the sea its boundary so the waters would not overstep his command,and when he marked out the foundations of the earth.
30 Then I was the craftsman at his side.
I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence,
31 rejoicing in his whole world and delighting in mankind.
Wisdom and water are boundaries, yes. We come to the water like it is a wise old caretaker of tomorrow. Do we want to see how far it is we reach? Curiosity and wisdom are cousins, aren’t they? When standing at that line, are we looking out of or into? It could be we go there just to learn that.
Or maybe we edge up to the shore because of that shepherd thing: “He leads me beside still waters.” — Psalm 23:2b.
That can be one of the scariest verses in the Bible, because it is in still water that we may see our own reflection. But it means he wants us to know who we are. …over and over, or until we finally look. Perhaps some never look until forced to by a thirst. Then bending all the necessary joints to bring watery self within reach, a hand dips from the reflection, enough.
Enough. That has something to do with wisdom. And the wet hand, real-izing what was there, feels exactly like somebody just got baptized. …and baptism, after all, is the biggest boundary water there is.
Think about this as your paddle slices movement from the water that sometimes is still.
Balance 
This posting took me a while to digest, so I didn’t respond right away. I may be way off base in my interpretation, but then again, that’s the fun part.
First, outstanding image. Not only for several technical reasons, but also for the composition. My favorite part is that the rock seems to be pointing the way to the light, not by accident I suspect.
As far your chosen scripture is concerned, initially I was surprised that you felt it was an ironic choice. But honestly, when in the midst of a trip like you experienced, there is the risk that you will feel insignificant with respect to your surroundings. I say risk because I don’t believe that God created the grandeur of creation to make us feel insignificant. But then again, when you are standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon with your toes hanging over the edge it’s pretty darn hard not to feel insignificant.
However, I suspect your choice of scripture may have been to say that even though we may be in awe of creation, we should also be able to enjoy it fully without being overwhelmed. But then there is that darn wind!
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Response from Steve:
Thanks for the compliments and good feedback, Jeff. You found some significant interpretations in the written meditation prompts. I like hearing what different people notice in a piece of scripture or spiritual writing.
The irony I was finding in what I wrote had to do with the focus on still water, when that day nothing was still — water, air, us.
I didn’t notice that the photo of the rock looked as if it was pointing toward the light until you mentioned it. Nice find!