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•       Calm ... Cheerful ... Delight ... Gladness and Joy...
•         Fraught with high winds, overpowering waves, anchors that didn't set, and                                       noises outside our small vessel that went bump in the night. 
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• When Eldon and I were cruising it was wise for us to have a Captain ... as do voyagers of large ships and small yachts. There has to be equal responsibilities according to each ones strengths and weaknesses - I had to know how to trim the sails, bring the boat around "Coming about" was the shout to crew. drop the anchor from the bow and know how much anchor rode to let out and yell for other shipmate to "Set the anchor." Learn and use celestial navigation, accurately read the charts and follow the depth sounder to pinpoint latitude and longitude, on watch for 4 hour on/4 off, climb the mast in a sling and trust my shipmate can hoist me to the top to change the masthead light and keep the line taut so I don't crash into the mast or fall from a great height into the water. We learned early on our strengths and weaknesses ... but we were equally "in charge" when the other was below getting rest or fixing a meal.

  

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•      One harrowing entry across a jetty, high winds off our port side pushing us toward the rocks forming the jetty. I was at the helm and Eldon was adjusting the sails to get the most wind to propel us through the narrow passageway along with the small diesel engine .. but the conditions were severe and we continued to drift toward the high rock wall. In order to get the most power out of the sails we HAD to head toward the rocks, then at the last minute change the sails to 'COME ABOUT' and head away from the rocks. I couldn't steer toward those rocks .. I was petrified! He yelled, "COME ABOUT!" I screamed back at him, "I CAN'T .. I CAN'T!" He quickly realized my panic and reached for the tiller and steered for the rocks. I immediately took his place at handling the sails, which had winches and didn't take as much strength to make changes. We finished the harrowing journey in that zig zag pattern until we were safely into the bay. 
•      The Captain of my ship was Eldon and I never doubted or assumed I could do what he was strongly capable of doing. He on the other hand never went below deck and, strapped into a safety harness,  made bread in 20 knots of wind and high seas. 
•      I had no problem submitting to the Captain. I was not a lesser person, a weak woman because I did so in our voyages and off the boat. It's a matter of confidence in yourself to walk beside your mate and acknowledge different but equal gifts to safely bring the ship to home port. Were there times of disagreement over who was Captain? Of course. Were we able to sort it out and continue our journey until  "death do us part" Absolutely. Have I grieved over those times, out of stubbornness or pride that delayed what should have been a harmonious voyage .. yes. That scripture goes on to say men should love their wives as themselves. And the combination of submission and love makes for a long lasting, mutually agreeable and strong marriage. 53 years .. I would give anything to have Capt.E aboard my little ship now and tell him, "Aye aye Captain!"
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  In the picture above, I had hoisted Eldon up the mast so he could repair something I was not strong enough to do ... but using the winch I was as strong as I needed to be. He tried to talk me into going up and doing the repair. That was an instance where I told the Captain "You'll see me throw myself overboard before I go up that mast!"

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                           GOD’S PERFECT SOLUTION 
                                                                  G.P.S
      
     It's not that I'm undisciplined - just the opposite - I'm habitually task oriented, and often won't budge from my daily, self-imposed schedule: wake up at 4 or 5, hopefully 6 a.m., hearing Thomas, my cat, purring in my ear, “Get up! Feed me!” and Jack, my black Lab, - 80 pounds of drooling and wagging delight - bounds onto the bed, now that I’m finally awake. 
     I roll out of bed, potty stop, a quick glance in the mirror, 

reminding myself the dog or cat don't care that I look like I've been run over by a semi during the night. Quick comb through, and onto my early morning rounds: feed dog and cat; heat up day old coffee, or make new; let dog and cat out; sideways glance at my Prayer Chair in the corner as I open fridge for yogurt breakfast with granola sprinkles. I let dog and cat back in before Thomas scratches the screen to shreds, or Jack howls and wakes the neighbors. 
     Thus begins my day.

      I sit at my desk and open the laptop to Yahoo emails, which contains a daily reading of Christian Broadcast Network - C.B.N. -devotionals. Some mornings I take a detour before I arrive at C.B.N.  and check FOX news first, then Facebook while munching my not-so-creative breakfast. Before I know it, time passes quickly from 6 to 8 a.m. and I'm still giving the Prayer Chair in the corner sideways glances (with Bible nearby and study books alongside). 

       "Something's off," warning signs flash with growing urgency. The daily news makes me sad/angry/disgruntled/frightened ... yet I’m drawn to that which brings me intense distress – like a bug about to be splattered on a windshield. Decidedly, something is missing. I glance at my Prayer Chair in the corner. The Good News is within reach, yet I've taken detours and parked God on a side road until I travel through world news, Facebook, Yahoo emails and a rabbit-trail of other diversions. The clock in the lower right corner on the laptop tells me it's time to get on with my day. A sideways glance at the Bible and study books on the table next to my Prayer Chair. – like a billboard alongside the road – draws me back to my emails. 
      I click on today’s email from C.B.N.’s inspirational moment: “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father but through me.” John 14:6. G.P.S.– “God’s Perfect Solution” - is set on cruise control as I sit back and take in the lush scenery of God’s Word. Taking short cuts, with a high chance of getting lost without engaging my G.P.S. to start my day, is as empty as driving for miles after I see the fuel light flash; warning that my gas tank is nearly depleted. A depleted supply of 'fuel' can’t see me through the trials, disruptions, joys and hazards along the way. His road map, G.P.S., helps me bypass the early morning hazards and disruptions, and steer directly toward the Filling Station in the corner. 
     Fill 'er up! Oh wait! This is a state where I have to "fill 'er up" myself. It's Self- Serve!
     Good morning, God. Thanks for being my Pilot and taking the wheel. I promise to navigate toward the Prayer Chair in the corner before setting out on each daily voyage. Buckle up, Monica, you’re going for a ride!

A SPARROW'S FLIGHT

                                 

                                            AN UNEXPECTED GUEST  

     

     Not an expected visitor to my wee little home ... but one that gave me a glimpse into its life story - though fleetingly touching mine. It left a sweet, sweet presence in my storehouse of memories.

                               

                                THE JAWS OF DEATH

     I heard a banging and crashing noise behind me as I sat at my computer desk. I turned and saw Jack, my  80 pound black Lab, and Thomas, my cat, chasing something.  I dreadfully imagined it was a mouse! A flurry of feathers escaping from Thomas's claws, I watched horrified as a tiny bird flew across the room, crashed into the window at my art corner, and dropped behind the jar holding paint brushes. Thomas was right on its tail feathers and Jack barked madly, causing a ruckus. I brushed Thomas off the art table and reached behind the brushes to find a sparrow, cowering and shaking, terrified, but very much alive and not bleeding.

     I picked it up and held it close to my heart ... it didn't stir or open its eyes. I carried it outside, leaving the two attack animals inside, and scanned the garden for a safe place to set the frightened bird, in hopes it could fly away. I set it on top of a huge wheel in the garden - an old tractor wheel. As soon as I set it down it flapped its wing - with a few feathers missing - and flew away, landing on a high branch in a nearby pine tree.  Did it linger a moment and look down at me to say thank you ... or just long enough to catch its breath before flying off to a safer place. You are welcome, little sparrow.

                               MY CHILD, MY SPARROW

     The dangers and pain that comes into our children's lives often breaks our own hearts. As in this sparrow's frightening near death encounter, we  hold our children close to our hearts, walk hand in hand as they go through trials, and nervously set them on a high place,  away from danger ( as in God's hands) before turning them loose. They will find strength to find their refuge and safe place to overcome the immediate danger, sadness, emptiness they face because we gave them wings and taught them how to soar.

     Did this sparrow have time to consider its potentially disastrous fate? How frightened it must have been, caught in the sharp claws and jaws of a cat, chased through an unknown realm, slamming into what looked like an opening into the garden, but crashing into its cold hard surface to hide behind a small array of bristled paint brushes. And how its tiny heart felt it would burst when plucked from its hiding place by a monstrous human hand. Did the sparrow feel any comfort or safety as I carried it close to my heart on our short journey to safety?

After releasing the bird and watching it ascend into the trees and disappear out of sight, I remembered the scripture, "Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth  much more than they?" Mathew 6:26

I sensed the fear and awe of the Lord as He carries us in the palm of His hand and sets on a high place to rest, then soar like an eagle - even though we are mere sparrows.

                               EAGLE'S WINGS

     My own child Vicki flew on eagle's wings most of her life. The time came when she had to fly alone. My heart broke beyond what I thought could be mended. I held her close to my chest so she could hear the beat of my heart. Courage was kindled when she whispered,  " God is good." And she flew gently, confidently into His care ... into His arms.

     

    

                                                        TRUST YOUR INSTRUMENTS

     It's early .. 0 dark hundred, translated to mean 4:58 a.m.. First cup of coffee goes down quickly - and Jack, my Lab, Thomas, my cat, want to go outside to survey their dark kingdom before sharply barking and insistently meowing to come back indoors for breakfast. First on my agenda is to read a daily devotional from CBN (Christian Broadcasting Network) posted on my email.
This morning's inspirational post is about Trust. Maps. I'm particularly fond of maps, charts, GPS and God ... not in that order of importance.
         

     My first experience of "Trust your instruments and charts" was advice my father in law gave my husband, Eldon, and me as we were about to set out on our first short cruise from our home port of Winchester Bay, Oregon to Coos Bay, Oregon only a few hours journey sailing south along the Oregon coast. Easy maiden voyage for us on our 30 sailboat, Kharah.

     We hadn't owned Kharah for very long ... only a few months; and were busy outfitting her with sails, canvas covers, fenders, electronic gear and safety equipment boats have stored in case of emergencies.

     The morning breeze and tides were favorable to set off across the notorious jetty - slack tide on our way across the bar and calculated return trip would have the tide returning into the bay. There was a hint of clouds low on the horizon and bright sunshine as we set sail and headed south at two, three miles offshore. Our speed ... a mere 3 knots, closely 3 mph.

Our instruments? We hadn't purchased electronic navigation instruments yet; our trusted depth sounder built into the boat and compass would be sufficient to know the depth we followed on the charts, and the heading we calculated on the chart for a clear shot at arriving safely at Coos Bay, a mere three hours journey if our speed and wind calculations were correct.
     

     Wispy clouds grew taller and closer as the morning cruise progressed. I had a thermos filled with hot coffee and muffins along with a few hard boiled eggs that we enjoyed in the cock pit.
The sails furled and grabbed the slight breeze speeding us along ... some would consider at a snail's pace. Slowly, the sails became slack and flapped loudly. We drew in the sails and started the engine. The small diesel engine growled loudly without a sputter and hummed Kharah along at an accelerated speed of 3.2 knots. The ocean was calm as a gold fish filled pond. The sun blotted slowly out of view as fog erased the horizon and crept closer, threatening to blanket us in its cold embrace.
     

     I double checked our location on the chart for our compass heading, and confirmed our depth on the depth sounder, showing we were right on course and heading for Coos Bay: and Eldon steered confidently trusting my calculation and his tiny ship.
     

     The first tingling of moist fog surprised us as if a cold, wet, wave - soaked blanket draped across the bow. I went below deck and brought Eldon his sweatshirt and put mine on, a welcome sense of comfort from the increasingly frigid fog.

     The description of fog as a chilling, cold and wet hand grasping you is not a clear enough description when you cannot see more than two boat lengths in front, beside or behind your vessel inching its way through the milky dense shroud.

     Eldon turned off the engine and said, "We need to listen for the sounding of the bouy from Winchester Bay .. we should still be able to hear it."
    

     It was as quiet as a viewing at a funeral.

     Our decision came quickly - turn around and head back for the Winchester Bay harbor, instead of cruising on to the unfamiliar Coos Bay harbor.

     A soft rumbling ... astern of our vessel became louder. We held our course. The rumbling became deeper and there we saw it. A fast moving fishing vessel mere boat lengths coming up astern. We held our course. The Captain of the encroaching boat headed off to starboard and waved as they speedily passed, causing a bumpy ripple in the calm sea.

     Eldon and I thought the same thing at the same time! "Follow that boat!"
Of course, our small engine could never keep pace with the swift fishing boat quickly merging into the dense fog and soon out of view. But we took a heading of its course and plotted on the chart ... Yes, this course would head us safely back to Winchester Bay's whistle bouy even though we were visually lost in the fog.

     "Believe your instruments", took on a whole new meaning as we inched our way to the safety of the harbor. Stay on course .. don't deviate from the plotted course on the chart or the factual information from the depth sounder. Don't doubt your knowledge and that of your instruments.

     Our calculations brought us closer to the harbor - still not out of the fog - where we should be coming up on the whistle bouy. Eldon turned off the engine. And we listened. From a not too distant direction, we heard the muffled sound. ' Whooo oooo. Whooo oooo." Right on course - so true to our calculations, we practically bumped into its welcoming embrace.

     The fog diluted ... and images became familiar as we changed course and headed across the Winchester Bay bar .. an easy entry as the incoming tide was just beginning to churn across the jetty.
Our adventurous journey became unfamiliar territory in a seascape clouded and shrouded in the unknown. We had our good instincts and seagoing skills, a trusted vessel, charts and believable instruments. And we stayed the course, making necessary adjustments along the way, and
arrived safely back at home port to prepare for the next seagoing destination.

     My real life journey? I know where I'm heading, how to get there, and excitedly await untying from the dock to sail onto the next anchorage marked on my chart.

     Stay the course. Sail on with sails fully unfurled!