Recently, while in Denver, Jason and I went for a much-needed morning walk in a nearby park. The trail meandered alongside the river, and at one point, I spotted something swimming towards us. The creature was the color of brown mud. His head was triangular, and his long slender body stretched out behind. Though the rest of his features were hidden by the water, I could tell—without a doubt—he had a long, slender tail. I called out to Jason, but my voice obviously scared the creature, and he darted into some weeds at the river’s edge.

“Do they have alligators in Colorado?” I asked.

“I doubt it,” Jason replied.

I doubted it too, but I also knew what my eyes had just seen. Triangular head. Long slender body and tail. The color of mud. Seemed like an alligator or crocodile to me. Looked like one too. A small one, yes, but definitely something in the gator family.

We waited around a little while, hoping the creature would make its way back out of the weeds, but it didn’t. Impatient at the animal’s resistance to our plans, we continued our walk. The trail was quite long, so after a while, we decided to turn back and retrace our steps.  

As we reached the spot where I had seen the supposed gator, I noticed the water parting around a long, slender shape. “There,” I shouted. “He’s back.”

Jason followed my gaze down the river. “It’s some kind of animal, but it’s not a gator. It looks like some kind of mammal.”

As the creature swam closer, we could finally get a good look at it. It was not a gator. It was some sort of rodent. An enormous rodent with a triangular head, long slender body, and a long, skinny tail. At that moment, I felt satisfied and disappointed all at once. I was excited to realize that I wasn’t losing my mind, and I had seen something. But I was disappointed that my powers of deduction were so flawed. I felt like a deflated Tweetie Bird, “I tawt I taw a crocodile!” I guess in my mind, if it looked like a gator, it must be a gator, right? Evidently not!

To get to the point of this illustration, I must first tell you how we came to be in Denver in the first place. It all began with a long drive from Jackson, GA. We were making our way from a Wednesday night meeting in Georgia to a Sunday-Monday missions conference in Grand Junction, CO. It was supposed to be three grueling days of travel to cover the distance, but the trip didn’t go as we had planned.

On Friday, we stopped to overnight at a small rest area about ten minutes on the far side of Denver. When we tried to take off early Saturday morning, we quickly discovered something was very wrong with the motorhome. The rear end was acting up again, and we weren’t going anywhere until it was fixed. We spent the morning calling local mechanics and tow companies, trying to get everything sorted. We then spent most of the afternoon waiting for the tow truck to arrive, which it didn’t until after we had driven the last four hours of our trip to Grand Junction in our tow vehicle.

The missions conference went great, and we had a wonderful time. We slept in a bit on Tuesday, then made our way back to Denver, where the mechanic was supposedly working on our RV. When we arrived, we found our motorhome parked on the street outside the mechanic shop. It was unlocked, which made me VERY angry since that’s our home, and nearly everything we own was in it. On top of that, the tow truck driver had failed to turn off the lights, so all the batteries were dead—the engine and the house batteries. No air. No lights. Nothing! It was 103 degrees inside when we first entered.

After talking with the mechanic and charging our batteries, we discovered he had not touched the coach. He hadn’t looked at anything. He hadn’t ordered any parts. He hadn’t removed the old parts. Nothing! But, he assured us he would arrive early the following day—before it got too warm—to remove the old part and take it to a local guy to have it rebuilt. We were told to expect him at 6:00 in the morning. We spent the night in the RV, so we didn’t have to pay for a hotel room.

The next morning we awoke dark and early, got dressed, and started making arrangements for somewhere to go while he was working on the coach. Six o’clock came and went. Then 7:00, 8:00, and 9:00. We finally got a message from the mechanic that it would be later in the day before they could make it. We had gotten up early for nothing!  

A wonderful church about thirty minutes away invited us to use their facilities for the day. We had access to a washer and dryer so that we could catch up on laundry, as well as showers. They even had a lounge area with beds where we could kill some time to give the mechanic plenty of time to finish the repairs. Since it was Wednesday, we stayed through to have service with this kind church and left around 9:15.

We had only been back to the RV for about 10 minutes when there was a knock at the door. It was the mechanic who had just arrived to remove the old part from underneath the coach. Jason told him as kindly as possible that he could do what he needed to do but that we weren’t leaving. We were settling in for the night and had given them all day to do the work. The mechanic agreed, but it was a long, noisy night.

The next morning, we were awakened at 7:00 by an intense pounding on our door. I peeked out the bedroom window to see the man who owned another local business in this strip. He was walking toward his shop but looking over his shoulder back at our motorhome and scowling intently. By the time Jason got to the door, there was no one there, but I have no doubt it was this guy who did the banging. Come to find out, he and our mechanic don’t get along well, and this guy was angry that we were parked on the street in front of his business. Like it was our fault!  

The next morning, we heard noises at the door, and when Jason went out to check on it, it was this guy again. He was taping a note to our RV that said if we didn’t move our car (our tow vehicle) out of his parking lot, he would have it towed. Nice! Jason immediately moved the car and parked it on the street behind the motorhome.  Honestly, it was like being caught in the middle of the Hatfield and McCoys dispute.

The next few days were full of mayhem and disappointments. The guy who was supposed to rebuild the part could not because he couldn’t track down all the components. The closest replacement part we could find was in Ohio, but we were assured that we could get it by Friday with priority shipping. We didn’t. It was Tuesday afternoon before it finally got to the mechanic’s shop. The timeline for the repairs was late Tuesday evening. Then 10:00 Tuesday night. Then after midnight. In the end, the repairs were finally finished at 5:00 Wednesday morning. The mechanics had worked through most of the night while we attempted to sleep inside the RV.

During that stretch, another church in the area allowed us to use their prophet’s chamber for showering, resting, and catching up on laundry. The downside was that the building had no air conditioning, and it was in the mid-90s in the area that week. So, while we did shower and catch up on laundry, we felt we would have a better chance of sleeping in the RV. (Of course, this was before we knew they were planning to work all night long.)

Because of all the delays, we had to cancel some meetings and rearrange others. The pastors were very gracious to work with us, but we felt terrible about the last-minute changes. All in all, it was an exhausting and frustrating couple of weeks, which brings me to the point of today’s post.

In my mind, the entire ordeal was bad. The breakdown was bad. The delays were bad. The lack of sleep was bad. The schedule change was bad. Try as I might, I couldn’t see any good in the situation. If it looks like a bad situation, then it must be bad, right?

Not according to the Bible, which tells me that all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). That same Bible reminds me that God is good and all that He does is good (Ps. 119:68). God knows all and sees all. I don’t. So, like the incident with the “gator,” my perception is often flawed. Things look bad to me, and it’s not until they get close enough for me to really see them that I can genuinely identify them for what they are.

I admit, I still have no idea why all of this happened, but I trust God does. So, while I’m still struggling to see the big picture, all I can do is take God at His Word and remember what I know to be true. God is good. God is kind. God is merciful. God is faithful. I may not see a lot of things clearly, but I’ve had a close enough view of my Lord to say, without a doubt, that He can be trusted. I hope you know that too!

Just out of curiosity, do any of you know what kind of large rodent swims around in the rivers of Denver and closely (or not) resembles a gator? I’m asking for a friend.