Last week, my husband and his brother spent over four hours army crawling over rocks, traversing a rushing river with ropes, slowly inching along in freezing water surrounded by crisp, chilly air to somehow retrieve both of our kayaks.
He said it took "a major reconnaissance, strategic planning, physically-exhausting efforts, and a lot of prayer," but in the end, they were successful.
That morning, my husband posted notices all over the Internet and called every city Parks and Rec in the area, the Fish and Game, etc., to report the missing kayaks. After work, he went back to the river and searched along the river banks with our 3-year old to look for them. On their way home a man called to report that he had seen one of them. One of the kayaks had been pushed further down the river up against an island. After much effort, my husband and his brother, later when they returned, were able to get that kayak free. My husband decided to search the island for the other kayak as well. They found it, jammed up in a similar fashion to the other, among huge logs and branches.
My husband said it was a miracle. He said he had not stopped praying and pleading with Heavenly Father to help him retrieve both kayaks. He said he felt Heavenly Father guiding and helping him.
I wonder if he read my previous post. I don't think so. Maybe he was as sad as I was. He must have been, to be pleading for help and sacrificing a post-call nap in order to go searching for them the following day.
What a blessing to have prayers answered - though it probably seems silly and small to some, for us, it was huge.
This is the river my husband likes people to think they were on when they lost the kayaks... but, it's not. It's a waterfall we visited last weekend together.