Walking on Thin Ice

Adult children joke about the parental cautions of their childhoods:

  1. Stop crying, or I’ll give you something to cry about!
  2. You’re going to poke your eye out with that thing!
  3. Don’t run with the scissors in your hand!
  4. Stop that before somebody gets hurt!
  5. You don’t know how good you have it!

    Our parents didn’t use those exact words, but their ideas were the same. Dad cautioned us far more than Mom, lecturing us frequently on all things dangerous. One life and death issue he harped on during our childhood was not climbing the mounds of ice along Lake Michigan’s winter shoreline.

    “Even when its frozen, there’s moving water underneath, making all of it unstable.” He was correct, of course, but we all knew if the right circumstances came along, we’d be on those ice mounds in a flash.

    This weekend the right circumstances came along. Mary and I took our dogs to the beach where they love to run up and down the snow-covered dunes side by side like a team of miniature horses. Climbing up over the dune ourselves, we gasped at our first glimpse of the lake.

    There were three rows of ice-mountains running the length of the shoreline, stretching for miles in both directions. These consecutive hills rose eight to ten feet with icy valleys in between, a frozen roller coaster toward frigid water, each peak less reliable than the one before.

    Mary and I agreed the whole scene was calling us to its beauty. With difficulty because of glare ice hidden beneath the snow, we scaled the first ridge, crawling on hands and knees to avoid falling.

    Vowing to go no further as we repeated Dad’s ancient lecture to each other, the draw of the second ridge drowned out his cautions and coaxed us to come. We had to sit on the ice to scoot down into the valley and then climbed up the middle ridge, teetering on its narrow peak while we took in a 360 degree postcard-perfect view. Looking back at the distant dunes, however, we calculated we were well “out to sea” over the swirling water Dad had assured us was beneath the ice.

    “Only the dogs will witness our drownings,” Mary said.

    “They’ll probably drown along with us,” I added.

    From what we could see, the frozen water beyond the third ridge was clear and blue, a wonder we yearned to get close to. We slid into the second valley and as the wind whipped sideways at our parkas, talked at length about inching up the last mound for one quick look over the top. But the weather had been above freezing that day, and Dad hadn’t told us whether top-ice or under-ice would melt first. In the end, his warnings terminated our battle with temptation. We didn’t climb the third peak but turned back toward solid ground, two old ladies having had two-thirds of an adventure.

    It’s good to know when to stop. All of us have gotten into trouble pushing the limits on risky behavior, which forced us to pay the piper when it was over. Taking chances for a valid reason is one thing, but taking chances just for fun is not good.

    Some people risk the one thing that matters most, life after death. They’re sure death ends everything, then find out it isn’t true. By then it’s too late to do anything about it.

    A second risky possibility is to postpone thoughts of spiritual matters with a self-promise to think about it in old age, but then to die young. Both scenarios are tantamount to walking on thin ice.

    As Mary and I turned toward the dune, we watched Jack and Sydney race ahead in tandem. Sydney ran across the frozen creek but suddenly dropped through the ice up to her chest, quickly climbing out with a surprised look on her face. Jack’s path across had stayed solid. We were still laughing when I got my own chilly surprise. Despite following Jack’s solid paw prints, I went through the ice up to my knee anyway. Brrr! It would have been better to follow someone heavier than I was.

    “I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say: My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.” (Isaiah 46:9-10)

    8 thoughts on “Walking on Thin Ice

    1. I sure am glad you only cracked through the ice when you were over the creek. I REALLY had to skip ahead to make sure you hadn’t fallen in before I could go back and finish reading about you and Mary climbing the ice ridges!! What an exciting 2/3rds of an adventure!

    2. Wow.. the lake looks really cool during the winter too.. Maybe I should come a winter too… I’m not moving over there but I can always travel!! =)

    3. Hi Margaret,
      I must say, I was very caught up in your 2/3rds adventure. I trust you are warm and dry and have taken up something else… like knitting. I laughed at the universal parental admonitions, and even more so to consider two fully grown women wisely still operating under their influence.
      Despite my laughter on the surface, your deeper message is flat out sobering and serious. Love was the cup that held your father’s warnings, and he did so to preserve your life here. What a picture of the love that compels the Father Who made the ice and snow to issue warnings not just about this life, but the life to come.
      An article got my attention in the newspaper yesterday, titled “Road Trip to the End Times.” The writer was reviewing yet another apocalyptic movie, one of many that have come out recently. It’s a grievous truth to consider that people are more interested in the Mayan calendar than the Holy Bible to lead them into right thinking about this period of human history.
      But here is what he wrote that really caught my attention: “I used to think the apocalypse was so tomorrow… but now the end of the world seems so yesterday. Another day, another sky full of ash. Another ribbon of highway littered with charred vehicles and human remains.” I hear the ennui, the Hollywood overkill that is dulling the senses from impending reality. As it was in the days of Noah, so will it be now. “Hey Noah, what’s that you’re building?” Tick, tock, tick, tock. Fifty years, seventy-five years, ninety-nine years later, the taunts growing in intensity… until it’s drip, drop, drip, drop.
      The God of the waters beneath your ice lovingly provided 100 years of warning in Noah’s time, and then did what He said He was going to do. 2012 will most likely come and go, and people will settle into their routines again, lulled into false security. It reminds me of the passage in 2 Peter 3 that says this: “Know this first of all, that in the last days mockers will come with their mocking, following after their own lusts, and saying, “Where is the promise of His coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all continues just as it was from the beginning of creation.” …It escapes their notice that by the word of God the heavens existed long ago and the earth was formed out of water and by water, through which the world at that time was destroyed, being flooded with water. But by His word the present heavens and earth are being reserved for fire, kept for the day of judgment and destruction of ungodly men. But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.”
      The Bible does give us a timetable. In Daniel 2 we have a vision of a statue, each section representing a world empire. Jesus told us what events would mark the beginning of “birth pangs” in Matthew 24. So where are we now? At the bottom of the statue and the woman is very pregnant.
      Should the Lord tarry and not return in our lifetime, we will all go to Him at the end of ours. There is really only one question He will ask and our entire eternity hinges on our answer. “What did you decide about Me?” Here’s my answer: You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God. I am a sinner and I trust that Your death on the cross paid for my sin. I couldn’t possibly be good enough to merit heaven, and so my entire hope rests on accepting the free gift of eternal life offered through You alone. I will not come into judgment because I am now clothed, not in my own righteousness, but in Yours.
      Thank you, Margaret, for an exciting story, a reminder to listen to the warnings of our parents, and more importantly the admonition of our heavenly Father.
      Love,
      Terry

    4. Since I lived right next to Lake Michigan,on South Oakenwald Ave, “myshoreline”was my playground. That particular area made a profound impression on me, in Winter as well as Summer. “I’ve anchored my Soul, in the Haven of Rest”. Thanks, Margaret, for today’s wisdom. And, thanks to your dear Dad, who is also still teaching us.

    5. A few times I’ve been dangerously adventuresome in the mountains, and gotten into some tight places. Sometimes I’ve been unaware until afterwards just how dangerous it was. God has kept the big, high boulders in place many times as I’ve driven through, beside and around them. He’s also kept my tires on the road as I’ve driven near the edge of a drop-off cliff, or rounded a hairpin curve where I couldn’t see if anyone was coming toward me or coming down a steep grade with many winding twists and turns. Knowing that I can’t presume upon God’s protection causes me to be very cautious and thankful for His presence, even as I worship and sing praises aloud to Him for these wondrous scenes.

      When we enjoy our adventures so immensely and thrill at the beauty of God’s magnificent creation, we can lose a realistic perspective of the inherent and hidden dangers. My husband does not share my “mountain high” enthusiam, nor is he amused with my risk-taking. He doesn’t get it, but has learned to appreciate the joy I have in my beloved mountains.

      So, I admire your enthusiasm and your desire to explore and see and experience it all, but PLEASE BE CAREFUL! You and Mary are “skating on thin ice” in your adventures! Be safe, be warm, be careful, be thrilled and be loved!

    6. I am rejoicing that you and Mary can be adventurous, have fun, laugh, and enjoy God’s beautiful creation together. What a rich gift of sisterhood the Lord has given you! And I praise God for your wise words of life after death.

    7. I didn’t mean for the above comment to be anonymous. Maybe now it will recognize our laptop.