I can not leave this subject of sailing without one quick story. I've shared with you that my dad had a Boy Scout Troop for 55 years. As a 16 year old girl, this proved to be a very fascinating feature about my dad as each Monday night during the summer, I conveniently found myself in the kitchen as the boys began to arrive through our back door and down the steps to the basement.
There were two boys that summer who spent a lot of time at our house. They were working in our garage, building a sailboat to earn a merit badge. They were working on becoming an Eagle Scout, which is a very high honor, I might add. One of these boys, I had a crush on and the other boy had a crush on me but he was very shy. I saw him come out of his shell that summer as he put his all on the line to earn a badge and my heart. So as the boys worked each day in our garage, I would spend as much time as I could "helping them". I thought it particulary amuzing that neither one of them knew how to sail. Of all the things they could have built, why a sailboat, but I promised to teach them. Oh, the sacrifices we make to help our fellow man!!
Every other summer, I took a train to St. Louis to visit a girlfriend. I was very excited about the upcoming trip. So I left the boys to their work and told them I would be back at the end of July and that boat better be finished! I was as excited to come home to see their finished work as I was to leave. My mom picked me up at the station and drove me home. There in our backyard, sitting on some saw-horses, sat my boat. Yes, you heard me, my boat. Painted black with a red sail and the words "The Cyndi" painted on the side. I couldn't belive they named it after me. They said, "We not only named it after you, but it's your boat. Camp starts next week, and this year you will go with your own boat!" Even though I hated the color, it was the most beautiful gift I had ever recieved. The next summer I repainted it to the most beautiful torquoise and dyed the sail.
I did keep my promise to teach them. My parents and the two boys planned a Saturday to take the boat to the lake. The weather that day was awful. Soooo windy and gloomy. We had planned a whole day but it didn't look like the rain was going to hold off. So I took the first boy out for a spin, brought him back and set off with shy guy. The wind was really strong by now, so my mom insisted I wear a life jacket. Mothers!!
Once we were out in the middle, a huge gust came up and the boat went over. Not anything I wasn't use to but it probably freaked out shy guy a little. However, the rigging to the sail got caught in my so-called life jacket and pulled me under. I could not get it lose. I thought, "this is it. This life jacket is going to kill me." I had a perfect peace come over me. I did not fear, I just didn't want these two wonderful, caring young men to blame themselves for my death or my mother who made me wear the the vest. But, just like that, in an instant, I was free. Thank you Lord. I surfaced, grabbed a quick breath and began with the task of pulling the boat up, getting on and back to shore. I don't know if these guys ever sailed again. I kind of think they had enough. Needless to say, I wore that boat out but I never wore out my life vest. I will never forget my days on and in the water of Lake Bloomington or the friends that shared those times with me.
I learned something else that day too. I am not afraid to die. I have the absolute assurance of my eternal life in Heaven, now and even then at 16 years of age. There is no greater peace my friends.
John 3:16
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