If You're Not on the Edge...

Perhaps it surprises folks from our Lincoln years to know that Anne was such a dedicated and enthusiastic outdoorswoman.  Some years ago we visited her brother, Scott, near his home at Crested Butte, CO.  One of the things Anne wanted us to do was to raft the Taylor River as a family.  The Taylor has some level three and four rapids depending on the time of year.  When we went, the water was roaring out the Taylor Reservoir and the water temperature was 56 degrees F.  So on with the wet suits and off we went.

I love this picture.  Notice that only one person is smiling at this point--not our guide, not me, not Scott, and certainly not the boys.  I love that grin on Anne's face.  She was in her glory.  She didn't much care for roller coasters and other thrill rides.  They made her nauseous and dizzy.  And they only pretended to be risky.  But this!  Oh, she would have done this all day and come back for more.  We had hoped someday to raft the Arkansas River through the Royal Gorge together.  Well, maybe I will...

Here is where the stories of Anne Hennigs and Ben Larson run together a bit.  I remember one of Ben's best sermons at Our Saviour's.  The theme was, "If you're not on the edge, you're taking up too much space."  He was talking about Anne even though he didn't realize it.  Few people knew Anne's desire to live on the real edge of life, where the outcome might be in doubt and where you could feel your heart pump and your pulse race.  But that was the Anne I knew and loved so dearly.  She sought out the edges of real life and lived fearlessly.  She took me along and taught me how to do it.  That's one of the reasons she was so much fun.

The raft behind us that day was filled with last-minute novices who declined the wet suits and thought their blue jeans would do.  We hoped the disaster we foresaw wouldn't happen, but it did.  Over they went against a large rock and five people were dumped into the river.  As we rafted, we picked up three of them, one bleeding from his scalp after striking a rock, all of them dazed and with teeth chattering.  Anne, of course, went into rescue mode and directed operations in our raft better than our (quite wonderful and patient) guide.  She was magnificent.  I was a bit awestruck.

I remember the looks on the faces of Steve and Greg as we pulled people out of the frigid water.  This wasn't a roller coaster at Worlds of Fun.  This was living on the edge of life and death.  This was serious.  This was real.  And this was where their mother was at her best--embracing life in all its mystery, complexity, risk and challenge, and loving every minute of the adventure.  I was so honored to be part of that life and she taught me so much about really living in the moment.

I love that picture in part because that's what my life looks like right now.  It'll be all right, even though there will more turbulence ahead.  Big rapids don't scare me now.  We've been there before and have come out fine.  We have a wonderful guide in the Holy Spirit.  And I can see Anne in the back, smiling. 

I miss you, honey.  But I'm glad you're still in the boat.