Grace-ful
Saturday was a perfect day, weather wise. Enough sunshine to just warm the skin but not enough to feel sticky, the slightest breeze that rustled wisps of hair at just the right moments. We thought going out on Utah Lake to watch conference was the perfect idea. And it was.
This was our setup: Alex's fancy smartphone-turned-fm-radio plugged into his computer.
So there we were, in the middle of Utah Lake, having the best morning ever listening to General Conference on the radio. We both loved it! No distractions, no noise (except that one frontier jet and people who asked us what we were fishing wish (the answer to which was rock-hard marshmallows)). Notice the glassy calm water...
Then conference was over, I was planning on getting back to Provo to play softball by 12:30, so we knew we had to hurry out of there to make it back in time. Alex went to start the motor. It managed a disappointing chug, then nothing. He pulled the cord again- nothing. This went on for about 15 minutes when I started to wonder if I would be late for my softball game. People were starting to call, asking if I was going to show up. I reassured them that we would be there soon. Alex was pretty sure he could get the motor working, and he's about the handiest guy I know, so I was feeling pretty confident.
Just in case though, I decided to bust out the oars and try rowing a bit. Just as I started to row, the wind started to pick up...and it just kept on picking up until there was some nice chop and consistent white caps...blowing us away from the Marina!
Alex was still working away on the engine, and so I just kept rowing, trying to save us some time. Let me tell you what, that boat is NOT very hydrodynamic the way I was rowing it! To make matters worse, the wind kept trying to spin us around, so making forward progress was pretty tricky business.
I started to remember stories I had heard about people getting caught out on the lake when the wind picked up and capsizing their boat...and sometimes drowning...
So I decided real quick to replace those thought with maritime-related hymns and scriptures for some inspiration!
"You know brethren, that a very large ship is benefited very much by a very small help in the time of a storm, by being kept workways with the wind and the waves." (D&C123:16)
my thoughts: Always good advice
"Let the lower lights be burning, send a gleam across the wave, some poor fainting, struggling seaman, you may rescue, you may save." (Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy)
My thoughts: I think I'm the struggling seaman at this point...
"And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm." (Matthew 8:26).
Heavenly Father, now would be such a great time to calm the water...or help Alex fix the motor...or help me become super woman to move more than 2 feet for every stroke. Something...anything?
After about 45 minutes of rowing, I don't know if Alex felt bad for me or if he had finally given up on the motor for the time being (he was trying to get it started the entire time), but he offered to take over rowing.
Not two minutes after he started rowing, a state boat came out of the marina, and headed toward us. We realized that we were being rescued...that we even maybe actually needed to be rescued, and we just looked at each other and laughed.
The guy driving the boat made the comment "We weren't sure if you were in trouble or if he was just showing off for you and rowing the boat in!" Psssshhhh!!! Whatever! Of course they show up just as Alex starts rowing! :)
I was so grateful for the boat that came out to get us. As the waves got bigger and bigger, and being towed in by the other boat became more and more like riding a roller coaster, I realized there was NO WAY we could have paddled back by ourselves. I'm so grateful for those people who had a boat that was a little stronger and were willing to come out and tow us back to safety--something we couldn't have done for ourselves. The more I thought about it, the more real the grace felt. I don't think we were actually in danger, but 1. you never know, and 2. it's not hard to imagine things going infinitely worse than they did. Being out on a stormy sea is a powerful way to learn gratitude for a Savior.
How do you thank someone who saves you? You remember them.
Comments
:)
That will be a conference story not soon forgotten.