Danger in the Yukon

“A hot air balloon!” Andy suggested.

“And where are we going to find a hot air balloon?” Dad asked.

“Okay, fine, but Mom brought her photography drone.”

Dad shook his head. “Not allowed to fly it that high.”

“Then we climb a mountain. A tall one above the clouds.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“We use a dog sled!”

“Where are we going to find a dog sled?”

Andy slumped. He’d really been looking forward to seeing the northern lights tonight. Forecasters had predicted a spectacular show thanks to something called a solar storm, which led the Wanders to travel to a remote cabin in Canada’s Yukon Territory so Mom could photograph the aurora borealis.

Art by David Leonard

Instead of a colorful nighttime show, however, the Wanders were greeted with a thick blanket of clouds, freezing temperatures, and snow. So much snow. Andy, Eva, and Dad huddled around a fire while Mom walked around the property, trying to capture a sliver of color through the clouds.

“Can we see if Mom found anything?” Eva asked.

Dad pulled out his phone and pointed to a dot on the screen. “GPS says she should be straight ahead.” He then dialed Mom’s number. “Hon, the kids want to hang out with you. Can you wave?”

Andy pointed his flashlight ahead, and they all saw a hand waving on a nearby hill.

Dad turned his attention to the kids. “Keep your flashlight on until you reach her and don’t wander off. There’s wildlife out here that you don’t want to meet.”

“What kind of wildlife?” Eva asked nervously.

“It’s fine,” Dad said. “I’ll be here keeping the fire going. Mom’s right there. And you have the emergency phone, right? I’ll track you through GPS the whole time.”

Eva reluctantly joined her brother, who used the entire walk to pitch more terrible ideas.

“They should make a giant fan that blows away clouds.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Like a leaf blower! Clouds are lighter than leaves.”

Eva stopped walking. She’d just noticed that the “Mom” dot on her phone’s GPS disappeared.

“A really powerful leaf blower. We could strap it to a plane, and . . .” Andy’s voice trailed off when he realized he’d just “invented” the jet engine. He didn’t remain defeated for long.

“Ooh! What about a laser?”

Eva tapped the phone, and Mom reappeared on the GPS behind them. “Andy.”

“A laser that’s strong enough to cut through the clouds, but not hurt the moon.”

“Stop talking!” Eva hissed. She showed Andy the phone. Even though they stood still, their dot danced around the screen. “It’s broken.”

“It’s fine,” Andy said. “We saw Mom with our own eyes right up this hill.”

But when the kids climbed the hill, Mom wasn’t there. The “arm” they’d seen earlier was just a branch waving in the wind. Eva turned around.

“Wait.” Andy switched off the flashlight.

“What are you doing?” Eva asked.

“Look at the sky! You can see so much better away from the fire.”

“See what? Clouds?”

Andy pointed to a gap in the clouds. Eva spotted it, too—a green glimmer. The kids moved forward to get out from under the trees. Eva held Andy’s shoulder to keep her footing in the deep snow, and they crept in silence, almost as if they were trying to sneak up on—

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

Thunk-thunk-SMASH! Thunk-thunk-THUD!

The kids tumbled down a ridge that they’d missed by staring at the sky. Andy dropped the flashlight. Eva’s phone smashed against a tree. They flailed, rolled, and slid all the way down the ridge until finally flopping into a snow drift.

“Unnnnnnng,” Eva moaned.

Andy rubbed his head. “You okay?”

“My shoulder stings. You?”

“I lost a boot.”

Andy rolled over and discovered just how much trouble they were in. The hill they’d tumbled down was steep—too steep to climb. It was tall, too, although he couldn’t tell quite how tall because they’d lost all their light sources.

Rowr.

Andy stopped breathing. That was a lynx cry. Dad had pointed out the sound one time during a camping trip, and Andy had never forgotten it. That lynx had been far away, though. This cry was louder. Closer.

Roowwwwwwwr.

Much, much closer.

“What do we do?” Eva whispered. Now there was a pair of eyes.

ROOOOWWWW—BZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

At that moment, something that sounded like a supersized bee zoomed down from the sky. It spooked the lynx, causing the big cat to run away.

Art by David Leonard

The kids almost ran, too, until Eva recognized the sound. “The drone!”

The Wanders’ drone hovered for a moment, then landed in front of the kids. “We’re coming to get you,” Dad said through the drone’s tiny speaker.

Twenty minutes later, Mom and Dad made it down the hill with blankets, flashlights, and hand warmers for all.

“How did you find us?” Eva asked.

“When your flashlight turned off, I noticed your dots jumping around the GPS,” Dad said. “That’s when I remembered that the northern lights can sometimes mess with GPS. I figured the drone would reach you a lot faster than I could.”

Eva snuggled with Dad. “Thanks for coming.”

Andy gasped and pointed at the sky. “Look!”

During the rescue, the clouds had rolled aside almost completely, revealing God’s beautiful light show. Brilliant pinks, greens, and blues danced in the night sky. The Wanders stared silently for a few moments before Eva peeked at Mom. A tear was running down her cheek.

“What’s wrong?” Eva asked.

“I just feel overwhelmed by God’s care right now.”

“Because he helped Dad find us?”

“Right. He protects us through so many things we take for granted. Parents. His Word.” She gestured to the sky. “This.”

“The northern lights?” Andy asked.

“The earth’s magnetic field,” Mom replied. “The lights are particles from the sun colliding with our atmosphere. If God hadn’t given our planet a magnetic field, those harmful particles would destroy the atmosphere and life on earth. It’s God’s protection at work, and we never even think about it.”

Dad pulled Andy and Eva into his arms. “Why don’t we thank God right now for his protection?”

The northern lights shimmer with shades of blue, green, and violet.

What’s the Point?

We serve a big God who cares about us more than we can imagine. He protects us in big ways—like a worldwide magnetic field that shields us from radiation—and small ways—like parents and other adults who help keep us out of dangerous situations. The more we learn about creation, the more we understand just how much our Creator cares.