The other night I had a dream that I was with a group of people that went to visit our pastor. No big deal. Except that he and his family lived on an island. And, once on the island, in order to take the tour bus to get to his exclusive estate, we were required to go on a white water rafting ride first. Somehow that made perfect sense in the dream.
So in groups of four or five, we were sent off on our water adventure. I happened to be in the last group. Of course. Perhaps I was chit-chatting too much.
But, as I stood there waiting for my turn, I noticed the faces of those departing the “ride” grew whiter. A storm was quickly coming in and apparently each boat was encountering increasingly worse rapids.
I nonchalantly whistled and stepped backward, straight out of line. Sorry Pastor Al but no visit today.
Weird dream. But, it reminded me of a real life adventure my husband and I had one time while vacationing in Cancun. Not unlike my dream, we waited in line for the ferry that would take us to the island of Cozumel. And it was indeed raining. As a matter of fact, the sky quickly grew pitch black as furious clouds pelted us nonstop with water bullets.
So much for that romantic little, lay on the beach getaway I had hoped for. At this point, I just wanted to get safely to the other side. But I was starting to doubt if even that was possible.
As the boat came in, the faces of the departing passengers more closely resembled green than white. When I asked one person, how bad it was, they simply replied with, if you don’t have to do it, don’t. My heart skipped a beat. Even thought I get talked in to doing brave things with my hubby, I am actually a weenie inside.
I looked at him and he assured me, we did indeed need to get to the other side. I have since come to find out I would not necessarily classify his reason of not wanting to lose the deposit we had on our hotel a valid need.
(Cue Gilligans Island Theme Song) However, just sit right back and you’ll hear the tale of a fateful trip, that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship. The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed…
Back to reality…the waves cranked the ship from side to side and up and down like a helpless rag doll. The water crashed through the open windows of the ferry until we were all effectively soaked head to toe and a growing puddle of water lay at our feet. Screams from above let me know I was not alone in my misery and fear.
I again, looked to my husband for comfort. (You’d think I would havve learned by now.) Surely they would not go out in weather like this unless they felt it was safe, right honey? Not really, he replied. These are the ships that go down that you hear about as nothing more than a blip on the news. But, I didn’t want to be the six o’clock story.
After I made a mental note to hurt him later, I looked straight up into the most gentle eyes of a man standing in front of me, holding tightly to a pole. He smiled. Why is he smiling I wondered. No sane person should be smiling right now.
It’s then that I realized he was an angel. Yep, God knew I was afraid so He sent an angel to bring me comfort, to let me know I’m not alone-
Just then my angel made a mad dash for the bathroom and threw up. Great, my angel is Clarence. But just as he eventually got his wings, we too eventually made it to the other side. Wet but with a story to tell.