My sister once lived on a lake. On occasion we visited her and enjoyed floating across the water in one of her boats. She had both a sunfish and a canoe.
There was the summer when two of my kids went paddling on a warm afternoon, and the wind picked up. They were of course wearing life jackets but even that garb did not protect them from the gales that carried them away from the dock when what they wanted was to come home. After an hour of fruitless splashing they became stranded in the tall reeds. Fortunately my brother in law noticed their extended absence and went looking for them. He managed to rescue them and the canoe.
It was however the end of their aquatic explorations.
I know next to nothing about life on the water. But I do know it behooves you to get along with your fellow passenger. Feisty activity, or sharp implements hurt not just the person in the other end. They endanger you as well.
John and I are in the final years of parenting these children. Last week he collected the ream of documents necessary for an intake meeting, and answered a volley of questions. This week I took Ben to an evaluation with a psychiatrist. There are times when I have sharp comments about how John is handling his end of things. And then I picture the two of us in a canoe.
It is as if I am cleverly jabbing him for reasons that may or may not hold water, and yet the accusations damage the two of us. Not the pinnacle of intelligence.
Hurting the person you are floating through life with is indicative of a lack of grace. It is also ill advised. If their end of the boat sinks, things don't look good for you either.
