A popular summer activity in Hotlanta is river tubing. While I lived in the big city for a couple decades without joining in, a year ago some friends invited me, and I finally sat in an inner tube and lazily floated down the Chattahoochee River. That day I learned a life lesson that I find myself repeatedly referring to in the twelve months since and also sharing with others. Better write down my discovery lest it be lost to posterity.

Twenty-nine of us ventured into the freezing river for the four hour adventure that scorching July day. Additionally, many strangers were on the water in front of us and behind us. This retreat from the booming metropolis of millions of people still brought a number of encounters with other humans. So much for getting away from it all. But I digress.

The Chattahoochee River is wide enough to fit several tubes across and deep enough for us to merrily go downstream with only an occasional shallow spot where you might get stuck on a rock. Consequently, the twenty nine of us were constantly moving, twisting, turning, floating along, never knowing who we would bump into next. The impact on conversation quickly became comical.

One second I am facing a person and communicating and the next second I have been carried off and turned around being left facing a completely different person. The two of us start talking only to have it very shortly interrupted by the current guiding us apart on the broad river. Those in the group who wanted to stick together connected their inner tubes with strings. My husband and I looped up. This was helpful, but the two of us now joined up as one still continued to sporadically drift among the many other tubes in the large group. Going with the flow was not optional on this social outing.

No one person would naturally be able to stay in communication with me for long, and I could not necessarily force any particular connection to occur since I would have to wait and see where the current directed me. If we then wanted to have a decent conversation, we would clearly have to be intentional to stick together. Well into the adventure, my husband and I were surprisingly able to providentially manage a lengthy discussion with another member of the group we had hoped to talk to that day. We had something on our mind and were thankful when our inner tubes finally floated near one another. With much intentionality from all three of us, we maintained our proximity with one another and successfully achieved our goal. However, as soon as we let go of the effort to stay close, we were soon separated and back to randomly bumping into others in the group.

The current strongly affected who we connected with that day. Though we could put forth effort, it was not easy to last long with any particular person unless we were literally tied together or completely focused on staying in contact.

Life is much like tubing down a river. Parents, children, spouses, friends, neighbors, bosses, co-workers, church members, pastors, teachers, students, mentors, and mentees ebb and flow into and out of our lives. The length of connection time varies, but very few if any relationships span our entire lifetime.

The illusion that people must be in our life forever is exactly that. An illusion. We are all floating down the river of life. We must accept new people into our lives and let go of others. The ebb and flow is not our enemy. God has purposely placed us on our specific inner tube at our specific location in the river to make our specific connections for a specific duration of time.

Who is in the inner tube next to you in this season of life? Love them. Pour into them. This moment will not last forever. But we can confidently embrace the twists and turns, knowing providence always wins.

Psalm 31:14-15, “But I trust in you, O LORD;
I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hand.”