Skip to main content

Slapping, flapping sails

I've forgotten much of the terminology, but some of my best childhood memories took place on sailboats. My dad and one of my brothers built a small one a few handfuls of years ago, and we took several family vacations sailing a big, rented one around the San Juan Islands. I love being blasted by the wind, I love leaning out the side of a boat to keep the wind from flattening it to the water, I love the sound the water makes against the sides, I love the bobbing of a boat that is not "under weigh"... I love it.

If you've sailed before, you'd know that it's not the most... direct form of travel. Sometimes you're out in the middle of a lake, and the wind totally disappears. Sometimes the current of a river is going the wrong direction in relationship to the wind, and you can't get where you'd like to. Sometimes you have great wind going TO your destination, and end up rowing (or drifting) the whole way back. It is a beautiful form of travel (and recreation), but definitely not predictable or direct. The other thing about traveling by sailboat is that you hardly ever aim straight at your destination. Sailboats often have to be at an angle against the wind, so that the wind can press against the sails and make the boat move. SO, most of the time you zigzag your way toward your destination.

Another part of sailing that can be quite exhilarating is each time the boat needs to "tac". This is when you've "zig"ed far enough and it's time to turn the boat the other way and "zag" at the opposite angle. In order to completely turn the boat the other way, the wind has to be let out of the sails, and there is this brief moment of crazy!The captain gives a shout to his crew, and everyone sets to work: ropes have to be given great amounts of slack (but don't let go completely, or you won't be able to bring the sails back under control), and the sails temporarily slap back and forth wildly as the whole boat is turned at a great angle, and then there is the rush to yank ropes back in and tighten them down, and catch the wind again, filling the sails and setting the boat back in motion going the other way.

Yesterday I was thinking about how much life, and our walks with God, are like sailboats... Often God takes us on a zigzagging journey toward HIS destination. We fuss and worry because our little boat is NOT angled straight at the destination! And then the moment (or season) comes when it's time to "tac", and we panic, seeing only slapping, flapping sails and too much slack in the ropes, feeling the vessel turning greatly... and then it passes and we see that truly our Captain was in control the whole time.

I'm coming out of a "tac" season. My Captain continually reminded me that with all that was raging around me, He was simply changing my direction. Finally, as we tighten down the ropes, the wind presses against my sails at the right angle again and I begin to move.

May I not lose sight of the horizon, or for a moment think that I am captain of this ship.

Our God is greater, our God is stronger, God you are higher than any other... 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Small Victory

I have a small victory to share with you:  Let me give some context... I blogged about the loss of children recently, verbally stomping my feet and telling the enemy that I will have no more of it- and that I have chosen my side and refuse to budge. The children God has given me "on loan" are all so different... Jonathan was an easy baby, and is currently a whirl-wind 3 1/2 yr old- he is FULL of energy, curiosity, music, rythm, he is friendly, relational, deep (yes, deep!), always thinking, processing, talking... He knows about God and that Jesus is real, and he knows that his baby sister Evelyn is safe with Jesus. Henry was a difficult baby, and is an easy 2 yr-old!  He adores his  brother and wants to be where he is, he gives AMAZING hugs, likes to be held, likes books, connects quickly with people, is caring, noisy, talkative, fast... and still has his innocence. He likes to pray. Evelyn has changed my life more than anything. Her body was tiny, but her existenc

Thank You

Thank you for walking alongside us, and for deeply crying out to God on our behalf. Tonight Josh and I held eachother with shaking arms, unable to breathe in our pain, with hot tears and groanings, deeper than we ever have. God is walking closely with us, teaching us, holding us. Thank you for being part of that. I can still feel little Evelyn Rose, she is still alive and moving- a continued miracle. As I sat down to pass on a little of this to some of you, here in the wee hours of the morning... in my husband's big sweatshirt, still wiping tears and snot on his sleeves (hope he doesn't mind... I'll just wash this sweatshirt before I give it back to him :) ), I had a photo file open on my desktop. I saw sweet little faces. Sweet, perfect little faces. What a joy and a privilege to raise two wild, wonderful boys. They are turning into such buddies, learning to appreciate eachother and play together instead of fighting, pushing, crying. They are innocent, energetic, curiou

Beautiful Redemption

This weekend I tasted sweet, sweet intentional redemption from our Father... Last year I went to Women of Faith with my mom and her church. I went expecting to release the last of my sorrow over losing Evelyn. The band Selah was there, and they represent a lot of what happened in my heart while I carried Evelyn. Last year I sat in the front row of our suite with empty arms, bracing myself for the wave of pain I knew I would feel when Selah came onto the stage. The wave came crashing, and my mom wept silently with me over the daughter I will not see again on earth. It tasted bitter, but as I drank in the music, my heart healed a little more. This year as Women of Faith started, the very first song was embellished by petite ballerinas, dancing sweetly and elegantly for their Father. I sat in the front row again, this time with my arms warm with a beautiful little girl that God has loaned to me. This year the wave that hit me was actually more like a whisper (isn't it incredible h