Finding reasons to say yes to life

​Several years ago, I helped lead a group of kids on a canoe trip. We found ourselves standing along the edge of the Cape Fear River in North Carolina. It was the end of a long hot summer day; the kids were grumpy.

One of the kids, being a kid, started throwing rocks into the river. A fellow counselor, always reasonably on the lookout for the next disaster, instinctively yelled, quit throwing rocks. Then I did something that had previously NOT been my instinct.

I said, line up boys. Give yourself plenty of room. Now find a rock. I want to see who can throw it the furthest.

And for the next hour, ten boys stood on the edge of a river claiming to have thrown a rock further across the Cape Fear River than any boy in history.

That day was long before I was a dad, but I learned a valuable dad lesson that day: always look for a way to say yes.

Yesterday, the boys and I were headed for a two mile walk on the Creeper Trail before heading back home from our little spring break get away. About a quarter of a mile into the walk, Elliott spotted a small beachy area. Can we go down there?, he asked.

Yes, I said.

And for the next hour, I watched them skip rocks across a river much smaller than the Cape Fear, but the beauty in the "yes" was still there.

I watched the boys work together to dig up a giant boulder and together plunge it into the water - it sounded like a bomb going off as it disappeared - all while claiming the rock had indeed skipped.

I watched Ian drop a leaf onto the surface of the water and stare it down as it floated off, claiming it was still skipping as it disappeared into a distant rapid.

I listened as they dreamed out loud of the water being warm enough for them to float down the river like a leaf.

I stood their thinking about all that gets missed out when we say no. I thought about how sometimes it seems when it comes to kids, maybe our instincts are programmed to say no.

I suppose that comes from a good place - this place of wanting to protect kids. Wanting to steer them in the "right" direction.

I think it also comes from another place - this place where we ourseves are too quick to focus on the "no" in our own lives - on these things we can't do in life or aren't supposed to do in life. We get obsessed with memorizing the rules and the laws and the diets and the fences that tell us where not to go and what not to eat and what not to do in life.

We can get to believing the secret to life is memorizing all the NOs.

I'll never forget that group of grumpy kids standing along the edge of the Cape Fear River who turned suddenly happy the moment they became - in their grumpy minds - the furthest river rock throwers ever.

I'll never forget my boys watching that "skipping boulder" plunge to the bottom of the river beneath a giant splash. And you're right boys - that water IS cold...

Today, I'm reminded as often as possible I need to find ways to tell those boys yes.

And as often as possible, I need to be finding ways to tell myself yes.

Sometimes no looks and feels like the safest bet, but what no says no best to is life and living.

I've learned that one the hard way.

I think we're all a little better if we allow ourselves a chance to skip a few rocks in life. Maybe even go looking for a boulder or two.