I recall a heralding experience I had as a teenager near my family's summer place, that renewed my faith in something beyond me. I invited my cousin Meg out for a row in the yellow dingy.  In a late afternoon, we casually ventured out into the harbor and admired the scenery.  As the wind came up, white caps formed on waves.  I reassured my cousin and said I'd row us around the local penninsula. Little did I know a storm would suddenly arise and threaten to carry us out to sea... 

Before long, fog rolled in and my passenger became petrified.  She lost any faith she had had in my navigational ability.  This contrasted my sense of excitement and adventure about our crazy situation.  I reminisced aloud of heros from some of my favorite books.  Yet, even my humorous tone turned serious when one oar fell out into the water and floated away from us.  Needless to say, the state of my passenger helped rock the boat. As she began to panic, I made efforts to calm her. Not long after, a powerful force pushed the oar back in our direction, and I grabbed it.  That went completely against the current. 

At that point, we saw the penninsula through the mist.  Considering how far we'd come, I agreed it would be wise to go ashore and walk the boat around the tip of the penninsula with the bow line. Meg might've abandoned me then, but as it happened, she couldn't climb a wet, rocky cliff.

Our feet slipped on the eroded stones on shore. The water felt refreshing on our feet.  Meg walked ahead of me and expressed aloud she wished the 'whole ordeal' was over.  When the drenched bow line slipped from my fingers in the fog, I could've sworn a man appeared long enough to help me grab it. Yet, looking up, the cliff left him nowhere to go.  Perplexed yet, grateful, I invited my passenger back into the bow and continued rowing.  She opted not to row at all. As I worked, I encouraged her to keep her spirits up. She didn't laugh though I offered her reasons. With the weather, pea soup fog and now intermittent rain, we both looked like drowned rats. 

Even in light of everything, I kept chatting and managed to enjoy myself. It wasn't long before we could see a person on a cottage deck in the distance. He waved. I smiled and kept rowing. I thought he waved at the gulls just overhead. I didn't feel we needed rescuing. As I rowed against the wind, the fog gradually cleared.  Although I shivered with no raincoat, I was glad to build stamina, resilience and determination.  I liked thinking of the story we'd share on our return.

In the end, our plan for a quick rowing trip took us three hours. My cousin admits she had no idea what she was getting into. As it happens, she hasn't accompanied me on another rowing trip since. Such memories cause me to bear in mind that experiences in our best interests may be things we never thought about. Who would voluntarily row in a storm? That boat experience prompted me to develop survival skills and keep my mind open to possibilities and alternatives. As crises evolve, I learn how faith sees me through. I convince myself I may not control the elements, but I do determine how I react to them, what I choose to attract, see and gain.