A Shoe in the Wilderness

One of the few "miracles" I've experienced

My last post celebrated the marriage of our oldest son. It got me reminiscing on some of the adventures we’ve had with him and our other children over the years. Here’s a true narrative I wrote a few years ago, when we were still living in NC and visiting our family in Idaho:

We recently had a chance to escape from the oppressive Southern heat and humidity and enjoy the cooler temperatures of the Northwest. Although I love living in Raleigh and appreciate being within a days drive of either the mountains, ocean, and fun cities like Charleston or Philly, I do love the rolling hills of the Palouse and the forests surrounding it.

Here’s a shot of the Palouse (a remarkably fertile region that spans the panhandle of Idaho and Southeastern Washington):

Our family decided to take on the hike to the falls at Elk River, in northern Idaho. The hike down to the lookout where we could see the falls was pleasant enough. We walked along what used to be a road that was literally carved out the top of the ridge by settlers.

I was amazed to learn (from the helpful, educational signs along the path) that settlers from the Appalachians and immigrants from Eastern Europe had made the road. People from our “neck of the woods” back in Southeast had traveled all the way to northern Idaho, hoping for a better life, and attracted by jobs at the local mill!

These settlers were dirt poor and so they scratched out a living in these forests, on land that no one else wanted. They even built a school, although only two weather-beaten posts remain today.

To get to the actual waterfall at Elk River, you have to do a bit of off-roading. In fact, it’s really a trek down the steep mountainside. Not for the faint of heart, and this 40 yr. old wasn’t sure if he would make it at times!

But, we conquered the hillside of death–and then had to travel upstream, in the river, to the waterfall.

Our boys quickly left us old folks behind, and frolicked in the pool at the base of the waterfall.

When you have three boys, you’re used to injuries of various kinds. So it wasn’t a huge surprise when our son cut his foot on the rocks surrounding the base of the waterfall. (These are times when I really appreciate having a wife who’s had first responder training!)

I won’t post a picture, but let’s just say the cut was deep, and there was blood … And he had left his shoes downstream on the bank of the river, so they wouldn’t get wet!

After my amazing wife had bandaged him up (with all of the handy supplies she always carries), we still had a problem. How to protect the wound? Turns out he had just found a shoe. Not just any shoe, but the exact size, and the correct foot.

It could have been a right shoe. It could have been a smaller shoe. Could have been a girl’s shoe … but it was a left foot, size 12 boy’s shoe–just right for my son!

It’s moments like these that make me appreciate how God takes care of us every minute and every day. Sometimes he provides bread from heaven (Exodus 16). Sometimes he provides water from a rock (Exodus 17). And sometimes he provides a shoe in the wilderness.