MessianicMusings.com

Despite having a mostly-wonderful and long-worked-for vacation, we did have one scary episode up at Webb Lake. This is not unusual, by the way; when I was about ten and we went to Webb Lake and I had a scary episode then, too. But let’s get to that later.

What happened this time was this: it was our second-to-last day at the cabin and for the first time, all three of us went out on the lake in the boat. It was a relatively small boat and it was awkward for all three of us to be fishing. So when we came back to eat, Dad almost decided to stay home. However, I offered him the idea of coming with us but not fishing, so he’d be out in the water but not frustrated by the limited casting room. Dad agreed.

My wife had an instinct it was a bad idea, but uncharacteristically was not very direct about her misgivings. We headed out and went to a crappie hole. It was a weird day, as the wind had shifted and everything that had worked for us earlier in the week wasn’t really working anymore.

Dad, who’s 87 and battling Alzheimer’s with dementia, had a hard time sitting still in the boat and continually shifted around, making the boat unstable. Coming back from the crappie hole, I had my episode of misgivings as well; I thought about suggesting Dad, who was acting tired and restless, get dropped off at the dock. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I also kept silent and we went on a couple drifts across the lake, hoping to snag walleyes or northerns or something.

Andie came within a couple feet of landing a very large bass, but lost it at the last second on an unexpected flip. Finally we decided to head in early as there was very little action, despite that nice close call.

Two bad judgments nearly led to a tragedy. First, I misjudged the speed with which I was approaching the dock; I thought I had slowed sufficiently, but I ended up coming in a bit fast. Then, instead of Andie and I grabbing for the dock while Dad stayed in the middle to balance the boat, Dad leaned over with us to grab at the dock and with all three of us leaning to the left, the boat tipped, dipped and nearly capsized.

Andie got a bruised knee; I nearly got my shoulder pulled out of its socket trying to grab the dock; and Dad got a nice gulp of lake water, but was otherwise unharmed as he ended up sitting in the boat as it came to rest with a lot of water in it.

I had no other pants to wear; Andie and I both ruined relatively new pairs of shoes; and my PSP was so water-damaged, it fell victim to the accident. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries and no loss of life, so the minor property damage to our personal property was as good a result as anyone could expect.

If the boat had gone all the way over, or if I had had a close encounter with the motor after I slipped out of the boat, things could have ended a lot worse. If we hadn’t been in only knee-deep water, there could have been a loss of life.

Considering all factors, the boat should have capsized and come down on us; I had to believe there was a touch of divine intervention in that moment that the worst did not happen. Lake water may not be good for removing wrinkles, but that gulp did convince Dad that his boat-faring days are behind him.

It’s not the first time God has intervened on our behalf at Webb Lake. When I was around ten, I got a fish-hook stuck in my eyelid while trying to fasten a hook to too-low an eyelet on my fishing pole; it was a matter of millimeters that spared me from that fishhook blinding me in that eye for life. Only the L-RD’s mercy explains how both of these episodes didn’t end worse than they did.