My husband and I are spending some time out on our sailboat. It’s a privilege and an adventure. In many ways, time on the boat challenges and deepens our relationship. It has been a beautiful cruise so far. The boat is running well. My pain management on the boat has greatly improved (thanks to a demanding year of physical therapy). And the weather has been perfect.
As we crossed the Delaware Bay, the cell phone rang. The surgeon wanted to discuss my husband’s pathology report.
Early stage prostate cancer.
But still, it’s the dreaded “C” word.
My wonderful friend and partner listened patiently to the doctor’s endless explanations. Feeling helpless, I had to do something; I took copious notes, which later I wouldn’t understand.
Hours passed as we adjusted sails and digested the news. Inside me it settled like sour milk. We entered a marina where we had stayed before. My Captain skillfully maneuvered the boat into the maze of 300-some boats.
I stood starboard side with lines ready to toss to the dock hand. Inside I struggled to breathe, pleading in prayer.
“Lord, I want to enjoy the rest of this trip without the constant weight of fear. I want to live in the moment and be present for my husband. But I don’t know how to do this! Jesus, please help me! What do I do?”
Looking down, I had been watching the water glide by. I sighed an “Amen” and looked up.
Out of the seemingly endless number of boats in the marina, I looked up to see the big block letters on a powerboat named TRUST ME.
By your grace,