Commerce happens on rivers, preferably deep, slow moving rivers. One of the things about the United States that gives it a huge edge over other countries as far as growth and wealth, is the extensive river system. This is not as vital now as it was during the pre-automotive age, but it is still important. Near where I live now there is the Grand River, which compared to other rivers is not really deep and is not really 'grand' but back in the day it had great significance. For much of its length it was dredged out and smaller sailing vessels could go quite aways up the river from Lake Erie and dock and wait for small barges to come down the river loaded with furs and flour and corn and lumber and whatever could be sold. Lake Erie connected to other cities via the water and commerce thrived. 

Along these waterways, one river would flow into another and make a larger river. The confluence of two rivers would often give rise to towns at the meeting point and trade would flourish there. These towns often took on the name Port, as in West Port or Reynolds Port or Logans Port, usually named after the first person who set up shop there. Trading posts were established, a saloon was organized, various shops would spring up, some industries and, eventually, a church would begin. Often there would be multiple churches. Not separated so much by faith or denomination, but more often in the early days, by language. Settlers came from all over the world to tap into the abundance that flowed on the rivers.

These rivers needed to be deep enough and wide enough to handle barges. Some rivers, like the Mississippi, were wide enough already. But others had to be dredged out where they ran shallow and widened where they narrowed. This also served to slow the speed of the flow. For all the rivers that were able to be used in this way, there were many other rivers and streams that just moved to fast to handle barges. They might be wide enough and deep enough, but the flow of the water would just be too much.

This would usually happen with rivers flowing down from a mountain. Once in a valley the river would slow and could be used. Sometimes canals would be built around the rapids and sometimes dams would be built. Man is ingenious in ways that make him prosperous.

But there are places in this world that man simply cannot tame, usually because it just isn't worth the trouble. Decades ago I was told of such a place. A place that was so wild that no effort had ever been made to bend it to the will of man. I was told how to reach it, but it would be a serious walk through a thick wood. Follow the game trail. Hard going, but worth it. Maybe if I had been a little older and had grown a little cynical, I would have shrugged it off as an old timer having a little fun with a young man. However, if that had been the case, I would have missed out on an incredible sight and life defining moment. 

I parked on the side of the road where the old timer had told me to park. Emerging from the car, I heard a distant roar. I zipped up my jacket (it was early spring) and entered the woods. Right about where the old guy had told me, I found the game trail. As I followed it and descended down that part of the mountain. Actually, it was a pretty easy walk down, but getting back nearly killed me. Anyway, as I made my way down the trail, the sound got louder. Then I noticed another sound. The same as the first, but a little deeper pitch. An interesting sound, familiar, but different, too. I could tell I was going to emerge from the forest soon because I could see the opening through the trees. I could also feel a vibration in my feet.

And then.....I was clear of the timber. A river was running violently downhill, carrying the weight of the snow melt further up-stream. Because of the amount of the flow, the river was almost to the banks, but not quite. How many ages had cut this river? It seemed old and new at the same time.

I marked the spot where I had emerged so that I could find it when I came back and then I followed the river. As I did, I could hear the other roar of rushing water getting louder. And then, at a high point overlooking the river I was following, I saw the point where another river, much larger than the one I was following, ran into the first river. This second river was larger than the first and running faster. The mountain it had just come down was higher and steeper. It also didn't seem as dirty as the first, which I attributed to the second river probably have more of a rocky bottom along the way. Where the two rivers came together there was a twisting and turning and quick whirlpools that came and went. Then, as I looked down the river further, it settled into just one, great, fast moving river. I watched for a long while and then turned and headed back.

I had been told of this place because I might find it interesting. But what I took from it was the thought that here I was; young and determined to make a name for myself in the ministry. Everything stretched before me and all things were possible. But, in spite of my head long dash to greatness, I was operating under my own power. Somewhere something bigger than me, something that sang the same song but sang it deeper and with more resonance, had to enter my life and take control. In my pondering, I realized the second river was the Holy Spirit. I might struggle, I might fight Him at first, but if I let Him take control, we could be great together.

And so it has been. His path was not the path I had worked out, but His path was better. With each passing day I can see the river slowing down as it nears the sea, and I am content. Since joining with His plan, good things have happened. Not necessarily in my personal life, but certainly in the life placed before me.

Some are hesitant to allow Him to lead. The cost can be high. But His plan is the best plan.

Blessings.