Sometimes a disaster is a disaster and we remember it for what it was. But sometimes a disaster turns into an adventure over time.

I was reflecting the other day on a camp adventure – I mean disaster – I was party to many years ago …

I was directing a week of junior high camp north of Edmonton at Camp Nakamun.

For one of the activities that week I planned to take the whole camp of about 60 campers, plus councillors and support crew, on a lazy river float.

I got the owner of a tire company to give me 100 inner tubes. It was going to be awesome!

The plan was to plop ourselves in the water at a designated spot, float for one and a half hours, then pull up to shore and get picked up by the bus.

It was a great plan … but I wasn’t there when they did the trial run. Everyone assured me that it would go like clockwork so I had no fears.

The day came and we all got in the water and started floating down the Pembina River. About a half a kilometre downstream, I floated by one the staffers who had gone on the trial run. He was looking back at the bridge from which we were dropped into the river.

He said to me very calmly, “I’m not sure that’s the spot we started from when we did our trial.”

I said, “What?! … How are they going to know where to pick us up then?” It’s not like the road followed the river; it actually only intersected the river in a few spots.

At the time I thought, “Oh well. It will work out.”

We had great fun for a while, linking inner tubes together to form a flotilla, splashing each other and, of course, overturning the odd inner tube, dumping the owner into the river.

What we didn’t have was medical personnel, life jackets, or food. They never met up with us.

The day was a little cooler and too overcast to call it ideal weather, so about an hour and a half into the float people were getting hungry, cold and ready to get out of the water.

We kept floating, hoping to find the arranged meeting spot. It was nowhere in sight.

It started to sprinkle rain and the natives started asking more questions. Still we kept floating on.

About two hours into the float, we beached the tubes on the shore and climbed the steep banks of the river.

We found a home close by and the kind owners built a bonfire on their lawn for the kids to keep warm.

It was another hour later before the bus finally found us.

That night I had quite a few hostile junior highers in my camp. They let me know they were not happy with me.

My hour and a half outing turned into a little bit of a Gilligan’s Island tour!

I thought it would go down as the great camping disaster, but the next year some of the kids who’d been on that float talked about it as if it was the greatest adventure.

Years later I look back and laugh at that outing; we all came back alive to tell the tale.

Here’s the thing: When we go through difficult things in life don’t miss the adventure of having God with you. Recall how God managed to get you through the disaster so that you can look back on it as an adventure through which you grew.

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Anyone remember a lazy river ride like that? Leave your comments below.