In my quest to travel to places I have never been before, I planned a trip to the north shore of Lake Superior in Minnesota. I had seen a Facebook post about all the beautiful waterfalls along the highway from Duluth to Grand Portage on the border with Canada.

I did some preliminary research on the location for all the waterfalls the post listed. I never was a hiker, but I still walk about a mile every day, on level ground. So I eliminated any sites that indicated long hikes, steep terrain, rugged trails, etc., so I was comfortable I could get there. I planned it for mid-September in the hope of catching the fall colors as a bonus. I made reservations, packed my bags and set out on my adventure on Sunday.

You’ve no doubt heard the saying, “We plan. God laughs.” Well, the good Lord must have been rolling on the floor laughing this week. Road construction along the way forced a detour which delayed my arrival at the hotel until after dark, and in a thick fog no less. At the first planned stop along the route I learned that Minnesota state parks, including those where many of the falls were located, had no entry fee but did have a vehicle fee which I somehow missed in my research. So I spent the first night recalculating my stops to decide which ones were free or at least likely to be worth the cost.

Day two took me along the lake shore where I realized very few trees had started changing. Skies over the lake to my right were hazy even though to my left, inland, they were bright blue. I stopped at a few scenic overlooks to take pictures, but the hazy skies did not yield the best quality photos. I was enjoying the ride, the music I was singing along with on the road, and I found a few places that were free and worth the experience, but none were waterfalls.

By the time I stopped on the second night, though, I was questioning if I should continue north or just spend the day relaxing at the hostel which was also to be my home for the third night. I looked again at the website for Grand Portage to confirm I would risk the drive. The information said the “easy” walk to the highest waterfall in Minnesota was a mile round trip along a paved trail, wheelchair accessible, so I decided to go for it. I would also be able to say I saw Canada, albeit across a river, as the 120 foot high waterfall was on the border.

The drive up yielded another couple of scenic stops along the lake shore, but the skies were just as hazy as the prior day. I also snapped a picture of the US border checkpoint as I turned into the park, just to prove I had gotten within sight of Canada. However, the park website failed to mention that the “easy” half-mile walk to the waterfall, with “very gentle elevation changes” was 100+ feet worth of elevation change, or about ten flights of stairs, two-and-a half times what I do on my best days. Thankfully, there were benches along the way, and the trip was downhill on the return leg (unlike my parents’ walk to and from school back in the day). The waterfall was beautiful and I was closer to Canada there than at the turn into the park or the river overlook at the start of the hike, but the walk was exhausting for me.

That night, I sent a friend some pictures I had taken of the hostel where I spent two nights as well as the waterfall. Her response was, “How can you not see God in places like that?” I said, “That’s exactly why I go!” But I didn’t hear my own words – yet.

Day four marked the beginning of the return trip. Before heading out that morning, I was again on the laptop looking for some waterfalls I may have missed, even if they took me a bit out of my way, because I was not willing to accept the one waterfall as “enough” to justify the trip. Low and behold, I found two right along the highway that I somehow missed not only in my prior research but also on the drive up. And they were on the right side of the road as I headed south, which may explain how I missed them. They were very close to wayside parks so I could walk from the wayside to the waterfalls. As I drove away from the second stop feeling a only a little bit better about my trip, John Denver was on the CD singing “Singing Skies and Dancing Waters”. I’ve heard it many times before, but I sure needed the reminder. I’ll let you listen to the song but the lyrics contain a couple of questions – “Are you still with me?”, and “Will you still be there?” The lyrics never mention God by name, but to me it was always impossible to think the artist was singing to anyone but God.

Now I finally heard what I said to my friend the night before – I make these trips to see God in the world he created. Yet I overlooked much of what God was sharing with me on this trip because it wasn’t living up to my plans, my expectations. I can’t begin to count the many times have I done that in my life! Maybe John and I weren’t the only ones asking, “Are you still with me? Will you still be there?” Maybe God, through John Denver’s words and music, was asking me the same questions.

John’s lyrics also include God’s response to the questions: “I’ll be there in singing skies and dancing waters, laughing children, growing old, and in the heart and in the spirit, and in the truth when it is told.”

Relationship is a two-way street. God is there for us, always, waiting with open arms. But we need to be present, too. Can you hear God’s questions? What is your response?

– Marge Lindell