Navigating the rapids, guided by faith

I’m a worrier. I’m pretty sure it’s been a part of who I am since birth, but it lay relatively dormant until a few very influential incidents in my childhood awakened the sleeping monster. Once that monster was let out, there was no going back. I’m always up for a hike or campout or exciting venture of one kind or another, so those who know me best are often surprised to learn of my fearfulness. I guess I do a good job of being a closet worrier.

Thankfully, I’m married to a man who is the exact opposite. He’s the adventurer. He suggests different outings for our family and thinks, “why not,” while I immediately start imagining all of the things that could possibly go wrong. I try to combat my fears by diving headfirst into organizing and planning for all possible scenarios. This usually ends up manifesting itself in my packing extra clothing, extra food, and, of course, extra first-aid items.

When we moved to Alaska over ten years ago, one of our first big purchases was an inflatable raft (again, my husband’s suggestion). Each summer, we endeavor to do a multi-day float on an Alaskan river we’ve never experienced before, which cues my worrying to its highest levels in the weeks leading up to these trips.

This past summer, we decided to set our sights on the beautiful Delta River. The weather for that area of Alaska the week prior to our trip was rainy—not just a little sprinkle here and there, but a heavy downpour for five days straight. This extra precipitation raised the river up to flood level.

Over the first half of the float this didn’t cause us any problems, but then we hit the rapid section of the river. These rapids would usually be rated class II, which is typically quite manageable even with a 14-foot raft loaded with all of our camping gear and our family, but the higher water bumped the rapids up to class III. Hearing and seeing the turbulent water ahead set my stomach in knots and caused me great concern. As we neared the first obstacle, I happened to observe my ten-year-old son quietly and calmly close his eyes and say a silent prayer for help, and that’s when the lightbulb clicked on for me. Fear can sometimes be a good thing! The scary nature of the situation led my son to recognize we needed help from higher up to make it through safely.

Now comes the hard part—controlling our fears at just the right level. Too much fear can be paralyzing and keep us from experiencing life. However, on the opposite end of the spectrum, not enough fear can mislead us into thinking we can do it on our own, and we don’t need God’s help. Just the right amount of fear can guide us to call upon higher powers to lead and protect us as we attempt to navigate the often intimidating and uncertain waters of life.

Psalm 56:3-4 teaches us, “When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You. In God, whose word I praise, In God I have put my trust; I shall not be afraid.” In this scripture, there are several “I” phrases followed by action verbs. God is always there for us, but we must take the initial step of turning to and asking Him for help. We need to acknowledge our fears, trust that God knows us individually and hears us, praise God and His word, and finally, allow Him rather than our fears to guide us.

The waters around us are continuing to grow ever more turbulent, and we know we will experience rapids at various levels of difficulty. Whether it be financial, physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual, we can be reassured in knowing God will guide us if we choose to turn to Him.

Christina Hancey and her husband, Scott, are parents to three crazy boys and one angel daughter watching all of the chaos from above. Christina enjoys exploring Alaska’s natural beauty with her family on foot, on bikes, or in a raft. If she isn’t playing chauffeur, cook, housecleaner, or many other roles for her boys, you can usually find her at the gym. Christina is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.