A Quote…

Come then; leap upon these mountains, skip upon these hills and heights of earth. The road to Heaven does not run from the world but through it. The longest Session of all is no discontinuation of these sessions here, but a lifting of them all by priestly love. It is a place for men, not ghosts–for the risen gorgeousness of the New Earth and for the glorious earthiness of the True Jerusalem.

Eat well then. Between our love and His Priesthood, He makes all things new. Our Last Home will be home indeed.

Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb

Otter Tail River/Deer Lake to Otter Tail Lake and return, Everts Township, Otter Tail County, Minnesota

We put in at the Deer Lake public access of of County Highway 83, which is right where the Otter Tail River empties into Deer Lake. We were hungry before we got there so we sat on our chairs in the public access and ate chicken salad sandwiches, tuna ring salad and glorified rice. It was a little buggy but not bad, the temperature was in the mid 70’s as has been the standard for this wonderfully fine and mild summer.

The water was clear and the shore sandy when we launched the canoe and immediately paddled east or upstream into the Otter Tail. Our plan was to paddle to Otter Tail lake and return. The river was wide and reedy, a lady waved to us from the opposite shore and teasingly asked us to “not catch her fish”. We decided to stay to the right on the way up and pretty quickly I started to fish. The first part of the river upstream from Deer Lake was pretty reedy, we did hear some interesting noises in the grass to the south side of the river and at one point we pulled to the side and sat and listened. There was sort of a popping noise, and it seemed to be coming from the grass which we thought might be rice. We talked a bit about getting a license to harvest this Fall, Laurie didn’t realize that it could be done but I saw it listed on the front of a Minnesota Hunting Regulations Guide.

We couldn’t figure out the popping noise so we went ahead and moved back into the river; we stopped for flower pictures a couple of times. I’m still struggling with my composition skills, I keep cutting off the tips of leaves. My Canon A70 really does a great job, we’ve taken over 5,000 pictures with it since we got it late September of last year, but I’m finding some things about it that I’d like to change. Actually I’d like to move up to a Digital SLR, likely a Nikon D70. Regardless, we alternated a couple more stops for pictures along with fishing as we meandered up the river.

I caught a small Large Mouth Bass, a number of little sunnies and Blue Gill, one Northern Pike about 28+ inches long that threw the hook right up next to the boat and a big something that snapped the line. Bummer. When the Northern threw the hook I somehow lost my fishing pole over the side of the canoe. The bail on the reel was open so pulling on the line only served to make a fishing line mess in my lap. Laurie did a great job of hovering us (remember we were in a river) over my fishing rod while I used the hooked end of our spare paddle to snag the fishing pole and bring it back up. So basically the only thing I fished for and kept was my fishing pole.

Laurie fished a small painted turtle out of the river with her minnow net. We took him on a bit of a ride for a while in the canoe, no-charge, and finally released him after taking a few pictures at one of our stops.

Finally we arrived at Otter Tail Lake, if we were voyageurs we’d have crossed the lake, portaged a few hundred rods crossed a couple of small lakes, passed over height of land to Leaf Lake and paddled our way down into the Mississippi drainage and all the way to the Gulf of Mexico.

Well, we’re not voyageurs, so we turned around and headed downstream. There was a kid at the north end of the roller dam that waved to us and asked some sort of question that was lost in the noise of the water over the dam, we paddled over to ask him what he was saying. He was asking if we had a minnow net, which we did, so we paddled over and got him a few scoops of minnows for bait.

The trip back down was leisurely and filled with fishing, though I didn’t have much success. I had a couple of serious hits, but didn’t land them. In Laurie’s commitment to explore every nook and cranny of all of the waterways we paddle we went up a canal into a little resort area to the north of the river. At the end it was kind of weedy and stinky.

As we got to the end of the river we heard the lady sitting at the front of a boat coming up the river say, “get a picture of them”. She meant us, and a few seconds later her husband’s flash went off. We thought that was a bit interesting but figured we just looked so “north woods” coming down the river right around sunset in our beautiful blue canoe. We had a bit of a cool “north woods” sort of experience of our own. We decided to paddle a bit into Deer Lake and as soon as we did we saw a float plane do a “touch and go” landing on the lake in the direction of the sunset. Cool.

As we loaded Laurie took some pictures of me tying down the canoe while swatting mosquitos. It seems that we’re always loading up in twilight, which is the “biting hour”. I did see a DNR (Department of Natural Resources) officer loading his boat so I went over and asked him a question that had been burning in my heart: “What are the regulations for canoes for lighting after dark?” He got me a regulation book, but he also told me in words that a non-lawyer could understand, “All you need to do is carry some sort of white light to shine at other boaters in time to avoid a collision.” And with those words I was able to escape reading three paragraphs of “lawyer speak”.

My Story…First Memories of Church

My earliest memories of life revolve around church and family. I don’t remember not going to church on Sunday mornings. I remember my father sitting to my left with a suit on and his arm hanging over the back of the pew, my mom sat to my right, I always thought she looked very pretty with a dress on and her hair done nicely. I didn’t question the presence of God, I grew up knowing that God existed, that He was our Father and that He sent His Son Jesus to save us.

I remember going to a big building in downtown Anaheim that was on a street that ran north and south. I remember that it was on the east side of the street and that it was a very big, old, important and holy looking building. I liked the building, it seemed comfortable. I would hope that my parents would not send me to Sunday School as I preferred sitting through the main service with them. I felt protected with my Dad’s arm behind me on the back of the pew. He was there, he knew what to say and when to say it. He held the hymnal so that I could see it when we prayed and as we read through the liturgy with the pastor. I could tell that he knew it all by heart, and I could barely read yet, but he followed through it with me just the same.

Pretty soon I knew it by heart too. I loved knowing what to say and when; I loved being sitting there on the pew between my mom and my dad. Sure I got bored sometimes, but I could always draw on the back of the “communion registration cards” using a hymnal as a desk. My life was in order. God was up in heaven along with Jesus, and my mom and dad flanked me in the pew. Grandpa and Grandma were there too, they always sat to our right, near the back of the church in the left row of pews.

Every Sunday after church we would go out to eat breakfast, usually at Coco’s restaurant on Anaheim Boulevard. To this day I love eating breakfast out more than any other meal, my mom liked sourdough toast for breakfast and I learned to like it too.

As I met friends in the neighborhood I learned new words about church like catechism, which was where my Catholic friends went, and first communion, which is what my Catholic friends got to take sooner than I. I was ok with that, I figured that God had the timing of things just right. And I knew that since we were Lutherans (Missouri Synod of course) we understood God.

Hope Springs…….Eventually…

My wife’s been battling with hope. To be more accurate, she’s been struggling with having her hopes dashed, being able to have children is chief among these dashed hopes. We had planned to have children with zero delay after our marriage, we wanted to start a family right away as we felt that a big part of what families are all about is raising children. We both worked with kids when we got married, Laurie teaching Sunday School, me teaching Sunday School, working with the youth group and in my daily work, I was a Youth Advocate for Colorado West Mental Health in Grand Junction Colorado.

Well, it didn’t happen, we turned out to be infertile, and it hurt. It hurt to see our friends and family have children, it hurt to hear a nephew named with a name we’d considered. It hurt and made us angry to see young unmarried girls have children that were “accidents”. We struggled with understanding why God would give children to people less fit than us. Why bother hoping if God wasn’t going to answer our prayer?

Right now we’re considering pursuing another course of action that, should it prove successful, we’d become parents. In discussing this course of action, and our desire to be parents with our pastor, he pointed out that we needed to examine ourselves to determine whether “becoming parents” had become an idol to us. He told us that one way we could tell that we had made it an idol, that we were pursuing parenthood in our own flesh was by watching our anxiety level. If we were anxious about this method, if we were going to be devastated should this method fail, than likely we had raised “parenthood” to idolotry.

Hebrews 11 says that “Faith is being sure of what we hope for…”, but it goes on to talk about the saints of old, who knew they were “sojourners” and “strangers” here on earth. In other words, what they hoped for was not what they’d receive on earth, what they hoped for was what they’d receive in death, ressurection, eternal life. Luke 11 tells us the story of the disciples asking Jesus to teach them to pray; he goes on to ask them “what Father being asked for bread would give a stone?” He then tells them to ask the Father in heaven to give them the Holy Spirit, the bread of life.

It ain’t in, and it ain’t about this world. It’s all about the next…Hope Springs…Eventually…

Have you considered my servant, Kent?

Some of my wife’s words this evening generated a thought…what if Job’s experience is a metaphor for our own? What if instead of being an interesting but difficult story teaching the story of one man’s struggle, it’s a story to illustrate for us the deal that God has made with Satan regarding all of His followers?

How do we reconcile this view with our view of a loving God?

Laurie and I believe way deep down inside that God will bless us, that somehow He will pay back our belief and obedience with blessings and goodness. That somehow because we’ve tried to be good and follow Him that He will take care of us, that we won’t suffer too much, that we won’t have too much loss…at least not any more than we can handle.

Job suffered much more than “he could handle”. We are “blameless and upright” through Jesus, as was Job, we, like Job, know that “our redeemer lives”. He needed a redeemer in order to be judged “blameless and upright” by God; besides how did his righteousness earn him the privledge of being tested?

Is human pain and suffering really so small a deal to God that He allows it simply in order to make a point? Is God that callous? Somehow I much prefer my old perception of God, the perception in which He was taking care of me, protecting me from harm and hurt. If this is growing up I’m not sure I’m interested.

One thing that I’ve struggled heartily with is emotion. I’m an feelaholic, my feeling guide me, my feelings rule me and overule my intellect. I want to crawl up in Jesus’ lap and be held like I was when I was a child, somehow I know that He expects more of me than that. I was told by my pastor that something (a desire, a hope, a dream) is idolatrous to me if I care more about that “thing” than following God’s will; and that the way I know I care more about the “thing” is if I have anxiety about it. Well, I have a lot of anxiety.

Does God say to Satan: “Have you considered my servant, Kent?”

Learning…

Boar’s Head Tavern, which is linked on my sidebar, is a place I go to learn. I often have feelings of inferiority regarding my education, I was too much of a flake to take advantage of the educational opportunities made available to me. Hanging out at BHT brings some of these feelings to the surface, I’m always struggling to understand what’s being said, much of the theological discussion goes over my head because I don’t have the foundational education that provides the terminology and basic concepts I need. Everyone is great about educating me, but I often feel quite a bit behind.

In addition to learning about theology, which is the focus of discussion at the Tavern, I’m learning about me and my attitudes. I’m learning that I have some anger and angst toward Lutherans and Lutheranism, and that I’m having a tough time sorting out what’s rational and irrational. There are a few things to disagree with regarding Lutheran theology, but mostly I’m struggling with their attitudes. Or at least the attitude that I’m perceiving they have. I found this same ugly feeling (in me) surface a week or two ago when I did some work on the grounds of the local Lutheran Seminary/School; I had some anger toward Lutherans without having any contact with them. What’s up with that?

Obviously what’s going on is inside of me, I have some unresolved “stuff” regarding the Lutheranism of my youth.

How to explain/explore it? Tell the story?

Significance…

I’m getting ready to head out for a new day of work, I’m wondering what I can do that’s significant today. Locating more telephone cables? Important, but not really significant. How do I gauge “signficance”? I guess I think that it has to do with eternal things. People, their relationship with God, their relationships with others. Children, friends, family. Some people I know seem to be doing well, some seem to be in the midst of having their life fall down around them.

How do I reach out in a significant way?

The Story…

I’ve been working on our websites this afternoon after a semi-short day at work, only six or so hours. We’ve got four websites right now, our basic “home page” hosted by our ISP. Our photograpy/design website hosted by dotster.com, and two blogs on blogger.com, Saints & Children (this blog) and Paddling Creation, the blog I put together to document our canoeing and outdoor stuff. What will be the fruit of all of this work? Who knows. My hope is that I will be able to discipline myself to write on the subjects I’ve listed. I’m thinking of adding a third blog, possibly called “To Be Yourself…”. I’ve been thinking about writing my story in that way. I’ve got some stuff in Word on my computer that I’m hoping will come together as a “coherent whole” but I’m not sure that will happen.

Who should I write about? Who have I met recently? How do I change from being shy and timid regarding walking up to people and talking to them?

Rice Lake/Otter Tail River, Hobart Township, Otter Tail County, Minnesota

We had a bit later start today as we’d intended to paddle Lake Seven (or Scalp Lake) which is just south of the lake we paddled yesterday, Lake Six. We stopped at a historical marker on Camp Cherith Road just east of the lakes and explored a small cemetary that was originally part of a church grounds. It was a beautiful little tree covered hillside that appeared to belong to the Seventh Day Adventist Church.

When we were finished exploring the cemetary we drove a couple more miles east to Lake Seven and found it entirely too populated for our tastes. What a difference a day makes, Fridays are much quieter. So we pulled out the plat book and started looking for alternative lakes nearby. We settled on Rice Lake as we saw that it had an inlet and outlet to the Otter Tail River, and one of our goals is to paddle the whole length of the Otter Tail. It was a mucky and unpleasant lake, a strong contrast to Lake Six, who’s memory was only a day old. We comforted ourselves that the river would likely be nicer.

After about one and a half miles of skirting the eastern shoreline of the lake we found the Otter Tail and started paddling upstream. It took a little while to move from the swampy reeds to where we found trees, but when we did we stopped the canoe among some tree roots and snags and took a break. We had seen some birds but not as many as earlier in the spring, we noticed that there were quite a few less blackbirds in and among the reeds.

After our snack we paddled upstream a mile or two more before we both needed to take a break, I decided to swim a bit as I was hot. We found a gravel bar that we could use as a wading area and got out and stretched our legs. Probably at this point we should have turned around and gone back. I had a mental picture of the plat map for the area and I remembered that the river went to a lake to the west. We could hear some activity on a lake to the west so we thought we were close; we decided that it would be neat to be able to make it to the next lake so we pressed on. After another hour-and-a-half of paddling upstream, going through some serious “next-corner-itis” we decided to turn around. Laurie was worn out and getting cold, I wasn’t cold but I was quite tired. So we turned around and paddled downstream. I was frustrated that we’d not made it to the next lake…

Downstream was quicker and easier, but it did seem to take longer than I thought it would. We saw a number of teal and we also hearded a Great Blue Heron downstream, we’d catch up to within 50-60 yards of him/her and then he/she would take off, flying down the channel at a low level stopping a corner or two later. Then we’d catch up again. We saw a Bald Eagle too, as well as surprising what sounded like a whole herd of Whitetail Deer. Actually we didn’t see the deer because we’d spooked them by talking as we were coming around a bend, but we heard them crashing through the reeds and crossing the river at a place we heard what we thought was another on the way upstream. We did see an enormous Whitetail Buck standing on a ridge silhouetted against the orange and blue sunset-lit sky on a hillside; he watched us come downstream and then ran down the ridge, at one time leaping in perfect form. He must have been at least a six-pointer, he was beautiful.

As we arrived at the delta, the place where the river empties into the lake, we grounded out. We must have taken another channel going up as we didn’t remember this area being so shallow, regardless, it took me getting out a couple of times and dragging the canoe backwards to get us out of the shallows. The bottom was quite mucky so I brought some ishy and stinky bottom scum back into the boat with me. Yuck! I didn’t have a nice clear launch area to clean up in to look forward to either as this was a pretty mucky lake overall. Oh well.

We made a “bee-line” across the lake to the public access, which is on the southeast end of the lake, the river empties into the northeast end of the lake. We wanted to get back as soon as possible as the sun had set quite a while earlier. We were hungry and were looking forward to eating some hot dogs we’d planned to cook over an open fire. When we got back to the launch ramp, we were met by the man that owned the land on that side of the lake, he asked us if we enjoyed ourselves, but mostly he wanted to talk about how he’d found his land an this lake to be “heaven”. He told us that we’d not have made it to another lake until we got to Frazee, and that we’d have had to portage the culverts under US Highway 10 as they ran pretty fast. He said coming down them is fun, but you can’t canoe up them. He said you had to be careful not to get crossed up in them.

We had hoped to start a fire at the public access, but Laurie read the sign and it said that fires were not allowed. So we decided to drive to Vergas MN for a hot dog at the convenience store, or at a fast food stand we’d seen. We loaded up and left. It was a bit buggy near the grassy parts of the parking lot, but not too bad. I ran about 40 feet away from the truck when I was done loading, waited until the mosquitos found me, then I ran to the truck and jumped in quickly hoping that I’d gotten away from the ugly little things and not lead them into the truck with me.

We stopped at the little fast food stand and bought three hot dogs and a pop. None of it tasted good, but it was filling. Laurie said that they’d put so little ketchup and mustard on her hot dog that they’d might as well not bothered. We went to the Loon Park just east of Vergas and sat on the dock dangling my feet in the lake to wash of the muck. We ate peanuts and watched the shells float away across the lake.

On the way home Laurie thought she spotten some aural activity so we stopped by the side of the road, sure enough she was right. There were some rays coming from the north and some cool flashes. We watched for a time by the side of the road, we then drove a bit closer to home and drove to the top of the radio tower hill near our house, there’s a bit better view as it’s higher. We were able to watch the aurora’s for a while and I took some photos, this is a sample. The bugs were bad as usual since it’s a grassy area.

Lake Six, Hobart Township, Otter Tail County, Minnesota

Between play practices and work, we felt like we really needed a day for just the two of us to explore and play. I had heard from friends Mike & Myra about Lakes Six and Seven north of Vergas MN, that both lakes were very clear and that the local scuba divers used them for training because they were so clear. Sure enough when we got there (after a few wild flower breaks) we found a sandy bottomed, very clear lake. We chose Lake Six because we generally prefer long, skinny lakes over round lakes. Silly eh?

We put the canoe in the water at around 2:30pm on a very cool and partly cloudy day for July, the day stayed in the upper 60’s, lower 70’s and there was very little humidity. The sun felt good, our wet feet would get a little cold but dipping them in the warm lake water made all the difference. There was a bit of a breeze that made us decide to circumnavigate the lake clockwise, but as the day wore on the wind became less of a factor. Neither of us noticed bugs during the whole day, not humid enough I assume.

This was a day of fishing and watching fish. I cast out a small grub with a weighted head early on, I probably had three for four strikes by the time I got the lure back to the canoe, but no takers. I saw a few bluegill follow the bait right up to the boat taking turns grabbing it with their mouths and spitting it out. We explored and photographed a few flowers along the banks of the lake, I fished between photo opportunities. Laurie said she didn’t mind paddling about while I fished, which proves she’s a true Proverbs 31 woman.

It’s best to simply say that the day was great. We were on the lake from around 2:30 to 9:00pm, we fished most of the time. I must have caught 10-15 perch, bluegill and sunnies. Laurie caught 5 or 6 and I only had to take one of them off of the hook for her because it swallowed it a bit further than she cared to go. I was incredibly pleased with Laurie, she took a fish off of the hook for the first time. She said it was fascinating and easy as she saw it as God’s creation. I told her later that I liked holding them a bit underwater after I unhook them, releasing the fish slowly and feeling it swim out of my hand. We found one area at the north end of the lake that had hundreds of fish, we both had a blast watching them follow the lure to the boat and trying to hook them. I’ve never had more fun fishing, especially for such small fish.

What was so great about this lake was it’s clarity, you could see 10-15 feet right down to the bottom. It was great to watch the fish, cast your lure right past them and try to taunt them into taking the hook.

After quite a while of playing and fishing from the south end to the north end of the lake via the western shore, we realized we were hungry and that we’d probably need to start heading back. So we paddled the eastern shore on the way home, occasionally stopping to look at flowers and cast for fish a time or two. We found a nice grassy area to take a break and stretch our legs. As the water was nice and warm I tried something I always wanted to try, solo canoeing. I got in the canoe in the middle, first time kneeling facing aft and tried to paddle around a bit. It went well. Then I turned around and sat on the portage yoke (which flexed a bit) and tried paddling facing forward; our canoe, at eighteen feet fairly large for a soloist, handled well. I’m sure in wind or current it would likely be a different story. I promised myself that I’d take time this winter to build a middle seat I could use to canoe alone.

The grassy area on the east side of the lake was a good area to stop and stretch, it looked like someone’s yard but there was no house. There was a picnic bench and a fire ring; we looked on the plat map later to see if we could figure out who owns it, but could not. It said all of that land belonged to Fair Hills Inc., which Laurie said sounded like a golf course. It may be a resort too, but we saw nothing but what was noted above.

We paddled pretty directly from that point to the truck, loaded and went off to Detroit Lakes MN for dinner at The Becker Sports Grille & Bar, which thankfully is non-smoking. I had a hamburger which was good, but Laurie said that the Walleye Sandwich wasn’t very good. The truth is that there’s nothing like fresh Walleye or Northern’s made with Shore Lunch, which is a batter made and sold here in MN.

Lake Six is listed as being 3.3 miles in circumference, we probably paddled more like six miles total with all of the drifting and zig-zagging while fishing.