The Tiny Ship Was Tossed


And so Rich and I decided to go kayaking the other day and as we were getting everything ready the clouds drew closer and turned dark and ominous. We checked the weather report and found that there was a slight chance of a thunderstorm, but the word "slight" kept us going. At the beach the dark clouds only loomed bigger and gathered closer but we shrugged and decided that if there was a gale we'd just stop at one of the neighboring islands.

On the kayak we go, pushing off, and towards distant ports. We, of course at that time, have not gotten the technique down so we don't paddle in a circle and I, being in the front this time, felt as if the kayak would completely capsize and kept yelling at Rich to steer us a little more smoothly. But all thoughts of steering went out of our minds when we happened to glance back and see that the sky had turned black and we were speckled with little rain drops. "To Boston!" we cried. For in the distance Boston's horizon held only clear, sunny skies. We rowed and rowed... the wind getting mightier at every moment.

I had had enough of sitting in the front, feeling helpless and confined and I told him that we had to stop at land and switch places. Well we came upon a huge stretch of land and decided to dock and trade places there quickly. At the rocky shore we made a quick scramble and once again I was in the safety of the back, all the while a mild storm raged on around us. The rocky beach, which was, when we stopped, fairly calm had now turned treacherous. The waves threatened to dash us upon the rocks and boulders, keeping us from heading to open water but we struggled and managed to slip from its grasp. We decided to head back to our beach, in the middle of hearty winds, in the open sea.

For some reason when the matter of life and death had us, we paddled our oars as if we were professionals. We kept a forward course, never having to worry about steering. The waves and wind buffeted us straight on and I, high on adrenaline and excitement laughed merrily along as we rowed for our lives. Many times the waves crashed against our boat sending us flying in the air. We steeled ourselves for every onslaught but we never wavered. Onward! onward! toward safe harbor, was what we shouted to one another. Be brave comrade, victory will soon be ours. We strained every fiber of our beings, every muscle ached but we gave it no reprieve. The waves broke over the front of our worthy vessel, dousing us in a salty spray. We were in deep water and it seemed our destination would never get nearer. Yet our courage never failed. I sang to keep morale up. What did I sing? Well "row row row your boat" of course.

And suddenly, as if we were only caught up in our own imaginations, the sea was calm and the sun high above us. And there ahead of us was our welcoming shore. It really was strange. Driving away and recalling our trying experience we looked back only to see a sea calm and undisturbed as if a breeze had never touched its surface. Amazed and dazed we looked to ourselves and asked, "was it but a dream?"...

And that was what happened on that fateful trip.

Now I must work away on my sermon. Have a wonderful sunday everyone and a happy rest of the week.

Me.