North Shore Lessons

We have been back from our trip to northern Minnesota for a little over a week now. The last time we went to Grand Marais before this was three years ago, in 2014. We were barely home when we received news of my mother-in-law Barb’s cardiac arrest and subsequent critical hospitalization (see previous post). I thought about that series of events often as we were on the North Shore this time – about how quickly things changed for us once we got back from that trip, as well as how much our lives have changed over the intervening three years. There have been no dramatic changes or challenges following this trip, and for that I am grateful. However, having those thoughts in the back of my mind did cause me to be hyper-aware of little details when we were on our trip. The natural world, God's creation, is a great teacher. Here are a few of the visual images I discovered that reminded me of God’s great care for me, and for all of us.

You can’t spend much time around the North Shore without clambering over large rocks. (Well, I can’t, anyway!) When we were out at Artist’s Point in Grand Marais, I found a beautiful columbine plant growing up from the rocks. Now, I don’t mean there was a small patch of soil in the middle of the rocks, and this plant found it and thrived. I mean that this plant seemingly grew up from the surface of a rock. I am always amazed when a plant grows where there is no observable way for it to be getting any nutrients. This resilient little flower reminded me of the beauty in a struggle. When life isn’t easy, and when a situation seems impossible, I can’t let that situation define me. I must choose my words and my attitude carefully in order to keep a tender and soft heart.  With God’s help, I can still grow and produce good and beautiful fruit even when everything around me seems bleak. We had a lot of bleak days three years ago, with Barb’s sudden illness followed by Les’s suicide. It seemed that nothing good or beautiful could come from all of that, and yet we witnessed the beauty of God’s care for us time and time again. The loving words and actions of friends and family were profound evidence of that. I need to remember that God can and often does insert beauty in the crags.

Butterflies supplied me with yet another image to consider. We saw many yellow swallowtail butterflies during our trip; some of them were gathered in groups. I had not seen that before, but we saw it in two different locations on this trip (at Gooseberry Falls and again at Temperance River). I looked up information about this behavior. It is called “puddling” and apparently different species of butterflies behave in this way, gathering around something of interest. (Read more here.) It is often just mud or an actual puddle that attracts the butterflies, with a source of sodium in it. I found it fascinating to watch. Individual butterflies also flew around as I would expect them to do, as we walked around the woods and shore. I got plenty of butterfly pictures, which made me happy. One day when I was on the beach, looking for rocks, I glimpsed something colorful among the rocks. As I bent down closer to see what it was, I discovered a bit of a butterfly wing. Obviously, this wasn’t the joyful discovery that my other interactions with butterflies were. However, that image served to remind me of the beauty that can be found in death. As earthly beings, we tend to think of death as an ending, and it certainly is that; however, our Heavenly Father has a different perspective. We grieve, as we should, at the loss of a loved one. We miss them desperately here in our earthly life. Something that has been of profound comfort to me in my grief has been thinking about the splendor of life in heaven. There can be completeness and precious beauty in death, especially when viewed from a heavenly perspective. This little bit of a butterfly wing among the rocks reminded me of that.

I had one more lesson from the North Shore. The day we were in Grand Marais, I was doing my photographer thing. I was lying on my belly trying to get close-ups of water striders on a little pool on the rocky shore line. In the process, I dipped my knee in another, smaller pool (a puddle, really). I then awkwardly lifted my knee up out of the puddle, while maintaining my position on the ground, stubbornly hoping for one good picture of those water striders (which kept moving every time I tried to take their picture). When I eventually stood up, my husband informed me that he had been taking pictures as well. And what had he been taking pictures of? Well, me taking pictures, of course! So there I was with a wet knee, a mediocre picture of water striders, and a smiling husband (who was pretty proud of his photography). But even without an excellent picture of them, let me just say that water striders are very cool. They glide along on the surface tension of water, a physical characteristic that we mostly ignore. They are extremely sensitive to what is going on around them because they can pick up on the smallest vibration right there on the surface of the water. Sometimes, when I am placed in a precarious situation, where not much is between me and disaster, I become more in tune with my surroundings. I could use those strategies to help me survive, like the water strider does, but I think God wants more from me. He wants me to increase my awareness of how others around me are also impacted or endangered by the things of this world. As my awareness of my environment increases, I can look outside of myself and my needs to find ways to help friends or family in need.

My God is such a gentle caretaker. He created each particle of this world, and He finds ways to use it to guide me. He is growing my awareness and my compassion, through circumstances along the path of life, and through His very creation.  I love Him dearly, and I long to follow His path in all I do.