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February 10th, 2003
The following is a story written by my friend and
business partner, Marty Dow, about an experience she had on her honeymoon.
I submit this story with her permission.
My husband and I spent the summer on his
sail boat, cruising the coast of Maine. Fog was new to me. My encounters
with the Divine were new to my husband.
At some point during this episode of being lost in the fog, I reported to
my husband Jeff that I had heard a voice telling me that we were safe. You
can imagine his response. Not only was he concerned about losing his boat
and possibly our lives, but now his new bride was hearing voices!
I hope you will enjoy the story. Use it to inspire the development of your
faith in the power of God and your ability to access your inner guidance.
Here is my story of Faith In The Fog:
Faith is a quality that must be tested to be formed. Without such tests,
faith remains an intellectual concept with no substance. Through the fires
of strenuous testing, faith is forged into a spiritual force that can
stand against the trials and tribulations of life. In my own mind I
understood the importance of such experiences, yet I was not prepared for
what was to follow.
It had been many years since I had felt his presence. It was a unique
presence, filled with strength, love and compassion. The day was overcast,
gloomy and cool. As I walked the Jordan Pond Trail in Arcadia National
Park, my mind was buzzing with random thoughts about our upcoming cruise.
Where would we stop? What should we take for food? Will we have good
weather?
Suddenly I felt it. Yes, it was the undeniable presence of my spiritual
guide. Some might call him my guardian angel.
My heart skipped a beat. Why was he here? I do not mean to imply that I
was not glad to see him. It is just that his presence always signals a
significant event in my life, always exciting but not always pleasurable.
It took a force of will to quiet my mind and allow myself to experience
his energy. The power is invigorating; the love, at times, overwhelming.
He is truly an old friend and a wise teacher.
Today his message is short and to the point. My courage is to be tested. I
am to stand fearless as a warrior. Even if the ground under my feet begins
to tremble, I must remain calm and sure of my safety. He reminds me, as he
has many times before, that the earth is going through a transition. We
are entering a new era, and it requires workers with a steady hand who
will not lose their footing in times of trouble.
This test will require all of the focus and concentration of my inner
being. "Prepare, for it is very near."
With those final words, he was gone as quickly as he had appeared. My
heart was fluttering. Never before had he brought such a stern message.
What was coming? How was I to prepare?
Looking back now on the event that followed, I could not have prepared. It
was one of those tests for which it is impossible to study.
Our cruise began smoothly. The Good News, our sailing ketch, was
thoroughly stocked with food, charts, books, and games. My husband, Jeff,
and I were prepared for all types of weather, or so we thought.
A week into our Maine coast cruise we stopped at Bass Harbor on the Island
of Mount Desert. This summer was developing a record for foggy weather.
Fortunately, it often cleared by one o'clock, leaving some afternoon
sailing time.
We stayed in Bass Harbor for several days. The weather continued to be
foggy and cool. We enjoyed the harbor, but now we were ready to move on.
After consulting the chart, we decided that if the weather cleared we
could make an easy sail to Northeast Harbor. The passage was well marked,
and even if we had some fog, we would be able to hear the bell buoy which
marked our first turn.
As usual, by one o'clock the fog had lifted in the harbor. We could see
the light at the harbor entrance. It seemed to be a good time to make our
move. So we pulled anchor and got underway.
Lifting anchor always gives me a feeling of excitement. What events would
the day's journey bring? However, as we cleared the Bass Harbor Light, I
knew this would not be a typical sail.
The fog socked in around us totally stealing our vision. Its eerie, thick
curtains distorted our sense of hearing. We were no longer able to
distinguish the direction of sounds. The winds kicked up the seas, making
it difficult to steer a straight course, our one possibility for locating
the bell buoy we so desperately needed.
Frightened, tired, and cold, we listened intently for that one critical
sound we so hungered to hear. But the sound of a bell ringing in the
distance never came. The only sound we heard was our own fog horn which we
repeatedly blew to warn others of our invisible presence.
After an hour or so, we finally accepted the inevitable. We were lost in
the fog. We should have passed the bell within thirty minutes of leaving
the Bass Harbor Light. We were heading out to sea. If we turned north we
would eventually hit land. But where? Would it be a safe harbor?
The coast of Maine is beautiful with its spectacular rocks and magnificent
ledges, that is when you can see them. Under the cover of darkness or fog
it can be treacherous. Many a boat has been smashed against this rugged
coast. Would we be numbered among this unfortunate group?
The decision is made. We will take our chances and head toward land. A
hard turn on the wheel, and we slowly head north, inching our way to
safety or destruction. Within minutes I can see the bottom. My stomach
knots as I yell back to Jeff to stop. In Maine waters, seeing the bottom
can be very dangerous.
Suddenly The Good News bangs into a rock and we are hard a ground. Jeff
shouts the command, "Check the bilge for water!" I hurry down the
companionway, lift the floor boards and to my relief I find her dry. For
now, we are not sinking.
As we stand on the deck, wondering what to do next, The Good News suddenly
floats off the rock. This was our first miracle. Tide is coming, and we
know we have water under us. So, we decide to quickly set our anchor. This
known spot feels more secure then the immense unknown that surrounds us.
It is only five o'clock in the afternoon. We know we are in for a long
night. Hopefully the fog will lift tomorrow; but with the fog this thick,
it could sit for days. After securing the boat as best we can, we settle
in to do all that is left to do, wait.
It is those time, those endless hours of waiting that are the real test of
faith. Fear thoughts race across my mind, playing our in detail the worst
possible scenarios.
"Stop!" I heard a scream inside my head. "You must have faith! This is
your test!" A force begins to rise in me that drives out the fear
thoughts. And I begin to pray.
I used every technique I could remember about prayer. I asked for Divine
Intervention. I thanked God for the help he has promised to give. I
visualized light around us. I called forth protection for the unseen
kingdoms. I quoted scriptures. I even begged for mercy.
I would like to tell you that I was fearless during those hours of prayer,
but that would be untrue. The fear was there, but I did not have time to
focus on it. My attention was on the solution, Divine Intervention.
Hours later, as I lay trying to sleep, I heard another voice inside my
head. This time it was soft, quiet. "You are safe. Tomorrow morning, at
seven o'clock, the sun will be as the noonday. The fog will be burned
away." A wave of peace floated over me and I knew it was true. I slept.
Seven o'clock! A silent alarm wakes me. I rush up the stairs to see the
sun shining as bright as noonday, not a wisp of fog in sight! The seas are
calm, and we are safe.
Upon consulting the chart and surveying the surrounding landscape, we
discover that we are off the shore of the Cranberry Isles, a coast filled
with ledge and dangerous rocks. Silently, slowly, we pick our way through
the rocks that we can only now see so clearly. Our unspoken words
acknowledge to each other that we had been in grave danger. Our survival
was truly a miracle.
Faith has forged her strength in the depths of us both. Whenever we face
danger, especially on our boat, we remind each other of our night in the
fog and that miracles are not only possible, they are probable.
Marty Varnadoe Dow, LCSW
September, 1991
If you would like to read other stories by Marty you can find them in a
Resource Library here:
http://www.ifcl.com/resource
Tricia Sample
Florida, USA
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