The Cabin
We have one—a cabin that is. As we began looking for one a few years back, images of cozy danced front and center in my mind. After all, cozy cabins were everywhere on the magazine rack. The red and black checked throws tossed here and there appeared to cover the soul in comfort. Pillows with “CABIN” written upon them tucked in corners of couches with a fish stitched neatly upon the flip side.
Speaking of fish, that’s exactly how I like mine—stitched in place and not moving. I also like them in the freezer section of the grocery store already caught—just waiting to be bought. I do not like to catch them or clean them for that matter. And yes, I’ve done both. So what do I like about cabin life? I like sitting within it, looking out at the lake while glancing at my “Cabin” magazine filled with all sorts of ideology about lake life. Atmospheric conditions help qualify it as lake life because you can’t have lake life without a few accent pieces helping to create atmosphere. And finding these accent pieces leads directly to shopping at the quaint boutiques around lake country. You know the kind. They offer sweatshirts, mugs and maps of the lake upon which your cabin rests.
I visited one shop the other day and found the cutest black bear engraved upon several wooden items. Only thing is— this bear looked a lot more cabin like than the real deal I saw hanging in a tree last fall. I’d caught wind of it through a friend who hunts so went on a hunt to go see it. When I arrived, I caught wind of it alright. The scent was strong to say the least, and I decided right then and there I was sticking to the wooden replicas sold in lake country. The real deal is just a little bit too—well…shall we say—real!
Other things on the lake I could do without are the pesky mosquitoes and swatting them in order to enter in to the confines of the cabin. The trees that topple each year are just shy of a pain. The dock needing to be put in to the tune of $300 and then again taken out at the end of “dock season” for another $300 all add up—so much so that it makes you wonder if one should or should not indulge in such extravagance.
So what do I like at the cabin? Let me tell you what makes the cabin all worthwhile. Nestling upon the couch with the fish pillow behind my back and a cup of coffee in hand is relaxwww. ation at its finest. Watching the glistening sun reflect upon lake offers sacred quietude. Restoration at the cabin while still waters run deep happens and life seems to slow making one want to return again and again. Not a sound to be heard lest it be the Loons upon the water and that’s a good thing. The fish plate placed just so upon a table filled with rocks holding names of those whom we love, and retreat time all add to the ambient of canopy tree covered life at the lake.
As summer turns to fall and the leaves begin to fall—the stillness brings rest. The world does not exist—only the cabin and only the lake and only those invited into this space of grace .
“The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters” is what it says in Genesis 1:2. And perhaps—just perhaps right there is why cabin life at the lake is so deeply engrained in so many. We were rooted from the beginning when He began to move and perhaps— just perhaps—He longs for us to quiet just enough to hear His still small voice while he continues to move upon the waters. Amen.
