William and I have been fortunate when it comes to
traveling. Hopefully, opportunities for roaming
adventure will only increase. Together,
we’ve been to hundreds of places. Our journeys
have included visits to historical
places; beautiful, bustling cities; respites in quaint, remote parts in the
middle of nowhere; and many mesmerizing beaches. We’ve witnessed breathtaking creation from
the shoreline of the East Coast to the West and beyond. In Cape Cod, we were awestruck by whales
breeching from far below the surface. In
Maui, we sailed alongside giant sea turtles and rode bikes down a volcano. We snorkeled in St. Thomas and in Molokini as
sharks and an eel circled nearby. (Not
scenery I opted for – but encountered nonetheless!) To see any of these sights is to be reminded
of the innovative and awesome power of our Creator.
Of course, images we see daily should serve as reminders,
but familiarity becomes an anesthesia.
We are too often numb and we miss out on moments of worshipful living. We are struck by the tiny hands and face of a
newborn, but if one truly looks into the weathered hands or face of an 80 year
old, something equally fascinating will be seen. So, day to day encounters with family
members, our pets, gardens, weather and the increasingly complex nuances of the
human body are an in-your-face aide-mémoire. IF we open the eyes of our heart to see
wholly, we are a tiny part of a very elaborate creation, one that reveals the Majesty
of God.
With the vast range of “Creation Reminders” William and I have
shared, none have come close to evoking the intense, white-knuckle fear that gripped
us both on an unsuspecting October morning in Destin, FL. It wasn’t in the form of “Creation” the way
we normally think of. It proved,
however, to be a powerful testimony to the sovereignty of our God – on many
levels.
It was our first trip to the Gulf as a couple. My man expressed a desire to go deep sea
fishing - there was not an iota of interest on my part. However, on a Thursday afternoon, we walked
around the Destin marina and scoped out the different “fishing tours” available
for the weekend. Not recalling the
specifics, William probably opted for “Captain Ben’s Boat” because of price,
timing and passenger availability. Being
a team player, I joined him for the 8 or
10 hour ocean journey as a “rider” – no stinky bait, no rods and reels. I was promised time to read and leisurely
sunbathe as he cast his line into the Gulf waters in hopes of landing a trophy
fish.
It was an early morning embarkation from the Destin Harbor. As everyone gathered, we quickly figured out
that I was a minority – the only female on the passenger manifest of around 80
people. No biggie – I would keep to
myself, basking in the glorious sun (which I would NEVER recommend now!) Captain Ben reviewed the rules and said a heartfelt
prayer before everyone stepped aboard. At the time, I wasn’t accustomed to being around a lot of “public
praying” and the last place it was expected was in a marina with a bunch of
fishermen. (The irony!)
 |
| I found this photo of Captain Ben & his boat via Google....He's standing where my fisherman was! |
My handsome fisherman took his position at the center of the bow. There was a built up area several feet behind him, positioning me for reading and cheering him on as he reeled in his catches. As we began the journey, I had no forewarning of William’s propensity for motion sickness. It came as a surprise when we had barely left the Destin Pass, that he was green with nausea. Actually, it went a step or two further….I watched in shock as he hurled breakfast on the elderly gentlemen to his left. Fortunately, that gentleman was wearing a large yellow poncho. With the events that followed, I’m confident he never knew what or who had hit him – literally.
We quickly decided to go up the stairs to the “deck” area
where it was wide open and my sick fisherman could recover. He laid down on a bench and I kneeled by him
in support. Unbeknownst to either of us,
we were entering a squall. (I had no
IDEA what a squall was until this day!) As
we sat there the 2 story “party boat” started rocking intensely and the winds
noticeably picked up. There was a large
generator/compressor or something a few feet away, toward the center of the
upper deck – it looked like a large white freezer. High winds lifted the metal lid from the
unit, over the bow of the boat and into the water. We both realized that had we stood up a
second earlier, decapitation or being knocked overboard could have been our
demise.
We struggled down the narrow stairs to the main area. All the fisherman were struggling to stand
and all fighting against the wind to get inside the relatively small galley. The
smallness was amplified because most every man aboard was now hurling their
breakfast – EVERYWHERE. The man in the
yellow poncho was among those having difficulty stomaching the rough seas. There
were two small bathrooms, with the doors open. Multiple guys were jockeying for
a receptacle whether a shared sink ,
toilet or trash can. As squeamish as I am, it’s amazing that I didn’t succumb,
or at least faint. (I’m getting nauseated
now just thinking about it!)
Not being an expert on nautical life, my words may fall short in describing the
tumultuous seas that day. The boat,
while “2 story” felt tiny in the high waves.
My guess is an aerial shot of our
vessel would have looked something between the tiny SS Minnow and the Andrea
Gail (Perfect Storm.) While maybe those
more familiar with the ways of the sea may not have felt as threatened, we both
thought we were going to die. The gigantic
waves, the rocking boat with parts flapping and flying off , 98% of the passengers
vomiting and falling all over the place, and water crashing over the sides of
our boat left me feeling helpless and very scared. We would never see our children again I thought! This was it.
While the timeline is fuzzy in my mind after so many years, there
was finally a moment where things stopped. The clanging of doors and flaps ceased. The male groanings stopped (mostly). The boat steadied and people calmed. We were no longer were
thrashing against the power of the waves…...We were going to make it after
all!
At a time in our lives when we were just dabbling in our
faith – not real intentional at all, this day served as a wake-up call. Even now, when the details of our “deep sea adventure” come to mind, there
are obvious application points.
- We aren’t sure why we
chose “that boat”…. Perhaps it was all by design. Maybe we endured that particular storm
together to serve as a reminder when “future storms” invade. Many storms have since challenged us,
and still many more will surely come.
- While I wasn’t “walking
with the Lord” as a Child of God should have been , I was hanging out on the periphery. Captain Ben’s openness to sharing his
faith, especially in a pretty “atypical” environment really caught my
attention. His boldness captured my
attention and has never left my memory.
I’m grateful for the example he was for me almost 20 years ago. Captain Ben was a modern day “fisher of
men”.
- As a mom, I’d be beside myself
if my children ever left the “shore” without letting us know where they
would be. We did not let a single
family member know where we were that day. IF, we had not returned to our families,
how long would it take for them to know we were missing? Today, I think about friends and
families who are engaged in the “storms of their lives” – some are quick
to communicate their anguish and seek accountability, prayer and
encouragement. Others, remain to
themselves until it’s almost too late.
We need to know “where” our loved ones are in their journey. If they are approaching stormy
circumstances, we ought to be close by tossing life preservers and prayer
in their direction.
- Like the guy standing next
to my handsome, seasick fisherman…. You might get a little messy if you’re
accompanying someone through a storm.
Life is messy. Deal with
it.
- When the two of us were on
the upper deck of the boat, we could’ve easily died had we stood up a
moment too soon. Perhaps this is just
to remind me that wherever we are in the storms of life, we should be
kneeling.
- The 8 (or 10?) hour deep
sea journey was cut short. After
the squall loosened its reckless grip on our boat, we turned around and
headed back to the marina. I don’t
think a single person complained about the fishing trip being cut short –
but many were likely thrilled to see dry land (and clean clothes!) It’s amazing how our perspective changes
when we’ve been in stormy waters…. We learn to appreciate the “little
things”.
- Of course, the old adage
applies: don’t forget to stop and smell
the Roses….and following a day like
that one, we did just that! After
the trying day at sea, my fisherman wanted anything for dinner with the
EXCEPTION of seafood! We found a
quaint little Italian restaurant with a delicious aroma of garlic, called “Roses.” The food was outstanding – even on
recovering, weak stomachs. It was
at that restaurant on that particular day, that we discovered a mutual
affinity for Merlot. (1 Timothy
5:23).
- Last, and certainly not
least – Captain Ben’s Boat was named Emmanuel “God with us.” How perfect an illustration. How amazing was the gift of this storm….it
certainly didn’t feel it at the time, but in retrospect, I KNOW the real
reason we “chose” that particular boat.
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