The Perfect Storm

Storms of Life

            Fourth of July weekend, my wife and I were surrounded by family and friends in a beautiful modern-day cabin with a sixty-foot lakeside view of Lake Chautauqua. Located on the Southwest corner of the state of New York, the lake is surrounded by rolling hills covered with green trees. Three miles across and seven miles wide, I knew this magnificent display of creation could not only be marveled upon, but also revered.

            There had been some talk earlier that morning about going out tubing on the lake if the weather was clear. Clear the weather was indeed, not a cloud in the sky with the temperature around eighty-five degrees, a perfect day to enjoy the lake. This was the first time for me to be on such a vast expanse of water. With a little timidity, I joined the others: Tim, my father-in-law; Racheal and Honey, my two sister-in-laws; Jake; a brother-in-law; Tina, a cousin in the family; and my wife, Kassandra.

            In a sixteen-foot ski boat, we skipped across the lake like a stone a giant had thrown across the surface of the water. Once we arrived to somewhere in the middle, where the shore had lost its individual characteristics and now could only be identified by the peaks and valleys of the surrounding hills, we stopped to lower the tube into the water and chose the first daredevil of the day. Racheal, a six-foot brunette, who is maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet quickly volunteered. The tube bounced around the wake of the boat with little indication that a rider was on board. It was not long before the tube capsized and she had had enough.

            By now, I noticed the water was getting rather choppy with an occasional white cap to contrast the blue water. This was as little or to no significance to my father-in-law Tim, however, he is a man’s man, loves the outdoors. He was far to busy chiding me, “Racheal did it, if you don’t go out there, you will never hear the end of it.” I knew this would be true, for the boat had already begun to fill up with resounding pokes and prods from the other in-laws. I swallowed whatever reservations I had, and threw caution to the wind. Once I said ok, my wife chimed in, “I’ll go too.” I am not sure if she thought I would feel safe with her by my side out there, or if she being the thrill-seeker was chomping at the bit for the experience. Either way, she was a true partner wanting to see all life’s moments side by side; I was happy to have her come along.

            The water had quite a few more white caps, but I am sure the in-laws were blinded by the opportunity to have fresh blood in the water. It started to rain big heavy cold drops as soon as the rope went taught. The kind of drops that feel like someone is flicking you with their finger when they hit your skin. Nonetheless, the in-laws pulled on the throttle and away we went. The rain transitioned from thumps of a finger to being pelted by icicles. My wife and I signaled for them to stop and pull us back in. Since all of the attention was on getting Kassandra, the tube, and I back into the boat; none of us were prepared for the scene to follow.

            We looked up to head back to the cabin only to see a grey cloud encompassing the boat. Our big open country view turned into a dismal wall of grey that allowed us only to see ten feet in any direction. Soon, we were being bombarded from every direction by wave after wave. Like bullies surrounding a child on a school playground, the waves seemed to enjoy our situation of helplessness.

            I realized that the perils of the lake were upon us. Recalling the safety tour over the boat from Uncle Six, who was not with us, I passed out the life jackets. Next was to discern who would need further assistance if the boat were to capsize. At first, I thought of my beloved wife, but knowing that even though she may not be a strong swimmer, with her fight for life, strong will, and a life jacket, she would be just fine. Jake was the youngest in the group, at the age of seventeen. He was strong, athletic, and more than capable to keep his wits about him. Most likely, it would be the two girls, Racheal and Honey, who would need to be looked after. I noticed during this short assessment that all of them were looking to their father. They were looking to Tim for strength, hope, and assurance that everything was going to be fine. It was at that moment with Tim standing at the bow of the boat, a giant wave toppled over him. The wave dropped him to the floor of the boat, and like a cat that had just been dunked into a bucket of water he scrambled for something to hold onto. The look of panic set fear and worry into the rest of the boat. Thoughts of this being the end started to set in. The boat was taking in water, and there was no telling how much longer it would hold up. Recalling an old Sunday school story form my youth, of Jesus calming the seas, I shot an arrow of prayer to the heavens, “Father, you created the heavens and the earth, my life is in your hands, by your will calm this storm like you did in the past. Amen.” No sooner did amen leave my mouth when with the flick of a switch the waves stopped and the skies cleared.

A good reminder for the storms ahead, call on God and He will answer!