Clipă de Lumină

(I’m posting this a week later than I wrote it–sorry). By the way, I have added a picture of the moldy table to that post below!

I went sailing the other night for the first time this summer—I used to go at least once a week during the summer. My friend Megan (a senior deckhand on a tall ship), Sam (another deckhand), and I decided to go out on Sam’s 24-foot boat, Watermelon, instead. We went out at eight when it was raining and starting to get dark. The wind was strong but not overpowering and Lake Michigan was the most beautiful dark blue-green color because of the impending storm. God seems to be more present on the water and especially so when sailing. If God were a big human and we were little kids, motor boating would be like pulling God’s leg hairs for fun to see his reaction, while sailing is like being tossed in the air by God, filled with anticipation, complete trust, and just a tiny bit of healthy fear. I have a feeling of intense peace and a feeling of power when sailing, not in myself but at the world—like no one can hurt me because God is on my side. I love sailing because it makes me feel so close to God and so close, yet so far away, from heaven. Does this make sense? I was thinking about God’s grace (thanks, Melody) being evident on the water. God’s grace is the only thing holding you up in the water; not only that, but water, even at its stormiest, is like grace objectified. I can’t even walk without tripping, yet the waves trip gracefully. Maybe I just need to learn to trip gracefully also.

Speaking of grace and feeling like a small human, I was wearing a very large man’s foul weather gear that made me look like a ragtag four-year-old!