An Afternoon Excursion

Oftentimes, entering into some small sin is like taking a short canoe ride around a slow moving river. We can let ourselves drift downstream, enjoying the scenery and loss of control, the relaxation that comes with being adrift. We close our eyes and feel the soft wind blow across our brow. We rest in the sun and feel the water caress our hand as the river passes by. Then we easily paddle upstream and come ashore to resume our life on dry land.

Sometimes, however, we may stray too long. Our rest turns to slumber as the lapping water sings us to sleep. We drift off to the playful sound of the water and wind and insects humming above our head. And then, we begin to hear in our dreams a far off rumble. We are dreaming, we tell ourselves. We stir, stretch and fall back asleep. The sound grows stronger. It is a part of our dream. But as the sound increases, we begin to remember. We are in a small boat, drifting downstream. We have been drifting for a long, long time… drifting farther than we intended to. We awake with a start. The roar is drawing nearer. We frantically grab our paddles and begin to come around, striving against the river. The current is strong, and growing stronger. Instead of drawing upstream towards home, we move increasingly faster down the river, towards the roar of the water as it pours over the precipice. Horrified, we are cast into the abyss, with the roar of raging waters around us; consumed with fear as we fall ever faster to our death.