The Song Of Someone Who Survived

Reflections on a Song of Deliverance

There are passages in sacred writings that we admire, and there are passages that we eventually live. For me, this ancient song—2 Samuel 22—is not simply a victory declaration. It is the story of someone who has walked through darkness and discovered that the Creator never abandoned them.

When I read these words through an Anishinaabe heart, I do not hear a warrior boasting about personal strength. I hear someone looking back over a lifetime and recognizing the Kitchi manitou’s footprints in places where, at the time, all they could see was pain. There are seasons when the storms around us are so fierce that we wonder if we will survive them. The wind howls, the waters rise, and the darkness whispers that we are alone. Yet even before we cry out, the Kitchi manitou has already begun making a path through the storm.

Kitchi manitou is my solid rock not because every hardship is removed, but because my spirit is given a place to stand when everything else is shifting beneath my feet. Kitchi manitou is my shelter when fear surrounds me, my canoe when the waters are rough, and the steady hand that lifts me when I have fallen.

Many people think strength is found in never breaking. But Kitchi manitou teaches something different. True strength is allowing the Spirit to gather the broken pieces of our lives and make us whole again. Every scar becomes a teaching. Every valley becomes part of our story. Every rescue becomes another reason to give thanks.

The path of a good life mino bimaadiziwin, is not walked without hardship. It is walked with trust. Sometimes the trail climbs steep mountains. Sometimes it winds through dark forests where we cannot see very far ahead. But the One who created the mountains also knows every step of the trail. Kitchi manitou goes before us, walks beside us, and surrounds us from behind. When I look back over my own journey, I do not only see the places where I stumbled. I see the places where unseen hands carried me. There were moments when I thought I had reached the end of my strength, yet somehow another breath came, another sunrise appeared, another door opened. That is the quiet work of Kitchi manitou.

As I reflected on this teaching, another understanding settled into my heart. We often ask for the mountain to be removed. Sometimes it is. But more often, we are taught to become the kind of person who can climb it. Looking back, we discover the mountain was never sent to destroy us. It became the place where we learned how faithful Kitchi manitou truly is. Then another realization followed.

Gratitude is born when we stop counting only the storms we survived and begin noticing the countless times, we were quietly carried through them. Some of the greatest miracles are the ones we only recognize when we look behind us.

Perhaps that is why this ancient song was written.
It was never only about victory over enemies.
It was about recognizing that every victory belongs to Kitchi manitou.
As I continue walking this life, I pray that my own story will never be about how strong I became.
I pray people see the faithfulness of the One who carried me.
The story is not that we never suffered.
The story is that we were never alone.
And perhaps that is the greatest teaching of this song.
The safest place is not where there are no storms.
The safest place is wherever the Creator is leading your footsteps.

Miigwetch, Creator, for every mountain, every valley, every lesson, and every quiet rescue that only You could see.

— Waubshki Migisi
from the heart of Loon + Sturgeon 🪶