An elderly man died recently from the church that my family belongs to. His widow reached out to me and asked if I would be interested in having his bass boat he used on the lake located between their home and mine.

I was hesitant at first, but after hearing her explain that she sincerely wanted me to have it, I drive our trailer over and hauled it home.

“This is an upgrade from the canoe”, I thought. A new battery and some other accessories later, we had a means of causing some trouble out there. I knew this would be a useful item in giving my kids as many positive experiences as possible with a rod or pole in hand so that we’d have years in front of us fishing together creating memories.

Parenting freaks me out. It’s far too easy to mess up your kids and if nothing else, they are certainly small mirrors reflecting back all the brokenness that lives inside your own chest. They learn most of what they will know to try in relationships and interactions with others from watching you. This is a haunting and precious opportunity.

As my little ones adjust to live in the Pacific Northwest, more and more embodying the life of locals and all that this region offers, I want them to have a sense of home and adventure. The mountains and forests are all around us and they can be daunting places of mystery or the backdrop for the sweetest memories we share together with however many years God gives us here.

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