This morning at church, the priest started talking about a trip he and his family took to Lake Powell when he was 13 years old. They rented a houseboat to live and travel on during the vacation. I was immediately taken back about 35 or so years ago when me, my husband at the time, my sister and her husband at the time, and our brother did the same thing. It was one of the best adventures we had ever experienced. Houseboats don’t go very fast, so we spent a week just meandering the waterways, taking in the scenery, and basking in the summer sunshine. We joked that we had to make notches in the side of the boat so we could keep track of what day it was. I smiled as the priest described the layout of the land with the high cliffs, narrow crevices, and occasional sandy beaches. He recounted how they had to locate a good-sized beach and pull the houseboat up onto it to anchor there for the night. I knew exactly what he was talking about and envisioned the guys getting the boat up to a decent speed to land it on the beach. We were very fortunate to have good weather almost the entire time. The priest, on the other hand, had a very harrowing experience one evening and continued with his story. As they were headed toward a cove to beach for the night, an unexpected storm arrived. It was blowing and raining against them, coming from the direction they were heading. The boat was making headway, but very slowly. Finally, after dark, the beach was in front of them. The priest, at 13 years old, was handed the rope for the boat. His father said that he was going to get up as much speed as he could and when the boat was on land, the boy was to jump off the front and tie the rope around a large rock. The boat got up speed, the front end reached the sand, and the boy jumped off as instructed. But the wind and rain were pushing the boat, and he was unable to get it tied down before the boat was back in the water. The boy watched as the houseboat with his family on it drifted further and further away. At one point it disappeared behind a stand of rocks and he could no longer see the lights. The boy was alone in the dark in a storm. After what seemed to be an eternity, the lights reappeared as his father got the houseboat up to speed once again and headed toward the beach. This time, his mother was given the wheel and his father jumped off the front of the boat and was able to tie it down. The point of the story was that when the priest as a boy was left alone in the dark, he felt helpless and even hopeless as he thought about what to do if his family didn’t make it back to him. But when he saw the light of the boat, he knew his family was coming back and that he would be ok. So it is with our faith life. We can feel like we are trapped in the darkness, afraid, alone, hopeless. But if we allow ourselves to encounter the light of Jesus, we will be assured that He will care for us.

I Found God today in memories of a wonderful time in my life, and a great story with a faith connection.