Straight from The Horse's Mouth

Our pond is low and looks pretty bad. We haven't had substantial rain in months. Many months. I know ranchers and preachers are starting to say prayers for precip. But I want to add a caution; Be Careful What You Pray For.

Once when Glenn and I were sailing across the Gulf of Mexico we were becalmed for three days. We sat like a toy in a bathtub, bobbing. In the middle of the third day I announced to the crew (Captain Glenn, my friend Michelle and my son Chris) that I was going to ask for wind. I situated myself on the bow and prayed. After a while I was back at the wheel declaring that in two hours we would have 40 knots. (I didn't know what 40 knots was...I was such a green horn.) Later, surprised, we watched the horizon as rows of thunderheads began to build. In two hours, to the minute, we had our first gust. It was eerie and it was brisk. We heeled over and sliced through the water picking up speed. Six knots, seven, eight. This was awesome; we were running like a horse across the waves. The boat handled really well around nine knots and we were having a great time. Then the white caps began to crest. Foam began to fly. We had to sheet in some sail, had to reef the main.

It was getting serious. I had forgotten about my request and was only focusing on maintaining my composure as the sea piled up. For several hours we worked the boat to keep her balanced and keep her on the rhumb line. Dinner was abbreviated, if not abandoned by those too queasy, and comfort greatly diminished. We donned our foulies for protection from the pelting rain from the port side. After about five hours of this it all quit. By now it was 10:00pm and we were really tired. We were happy that the weather event was over and were ready to settle in for the night. I was pleased that my prayer had been answered.

Glenn went below to get some rest before his 2:00am watch. Michelle stayed in the cockpit to keep me company, and Chris also went below to sleep. It was pitch black except for the dim glow of the navigation instruments. We couldn't see a thing around us, and the wind stopped abruptly and entirely. It was spooky. It was perfectly silent... just for a moment. With no warning at all the the main popped and flapped. Glenn ran up to see what was the matter as we were violently back winded. The boom flew across the beam, 32,000 lbs. of boat jerked and quickly tilted 90 degrees sideways. Glenn worked the lines to give slack to the mainsail which was holding the mast under water. Had you been looking from the outside you would've seen the keel in the air where it did not belong.

I leaned on the wheel, standing on the combing looking at the rush of green water that threatened to pour aboard, possibly sending T.O. to the bottom. The wind raged. The commotion seemed to last forever, but was probably one or two minutes; long enough for my life to pass before me and to imagine the briny doom that awaited us. Turn One did what she was designed to do. The wicked down-burst ended and she righted herself. We took a quick inventory of bodies and equipment. All was well. I sat down, exhaled and said "That was cool." What was cool was that we were all okay, no one panicked and the boat performed properly.

The moral of this story is that one must be very specific when praying. I had asked for a lot of wind. What is a lot? We needed only 15 or 20 knots, not a micro-burst! In opening the bookstore we asked that we have enough business to stay open. Now we need to be specific in asking for rain. Just enough to water the fields and yards, thank you.

Join is Saturday mornings at 10:00 for story time. The kids will have a few books read to them and then a short activity. We're planning our next open mic night. Looks like it will be around the first week end in April. See ya there!