Tag: Adventure

Doldrums

Published on by marycatherinethomas3 Comments

Doldrums: a state or period of inactivity, stagnation, or slump (Merriam-Webster)

On July 5th, 1977, we headed to the base in Yokosuka Japan and rented a day sailor sailboat for the afternoon. There were three of us on this adventure, Dale, myself and a friend of ours.

We checked out the boat and headed out. The day was sunny as were our moods. There was a breeze and the little boat danced upon the waves. We were having a wonderful experience. We talked, laughed and just enjoyed watching the slight white caps on the bay.

We sailed that way for a good hour. We knew we had plenty of time before we had to return our rental. The sun was lovely, the temperature was perfect. The wind was continual and water splashed gently onto the sides as we glided along.

About an hour after leaving shore the wind died down. Then the wind stopped. It was quiet except the lapping of the waves on the side of the sailboat. We bounced on the waves knowing the wind would pick back up. We thought we would be heading back soon and enjoying our adventure again.

These little sailboats did not come with a motor. They had oars. We sat for a while, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Conversation ebbed. Time passed. We were dead in the water. The gentle rocking of the boat caused us to drift a bit.

Eventually the oars were picked up. In our glee of being on the bay with a great wind we paid no attention to how far we sailed. The trip back to shore was going to be long, especially rowing.

The guys were determined and rowed toward shore. The trip back to shore was quiet. The joy of the beginning of our trip was replaced by resolve. The afternoon sun was turning into dusk as we came to the dock. The wind had completely disappeared that afternoon.

You need wind in your sails to move. When the wind dies you are left with no motivation.

The same is true in life. There are times where the laughter stops and the quiet begins. The energy level subsides. The noise turns to a deafening silence. We can become adrift.

This sounds ominous unless we have an anchor. An anchor will keep us from drifting far away from where we are supposed to be. My Anchor is Christ. When I face the doldrums, I turn to Him. He knows me inside and out. He knows when my sails are flat and lifeless. He understands that part of me. He holds me close until He knows I am ready to lift from my position and then gently, ever so gently, He will ruffle my sail giving me a tailwind.

“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, And saves such as have a contrite spirit. 19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous, But the Lord delivers him out of them all.” Psalm 34:18-19 (NLT)

Resident Aliens

Published on by marycatherinethomas6 Comments

“We are strangers, we are aliens, we are not of this world” Petra

In early June of 1976 we boarded a plane at San Francisco International airport. We were heading to Japan. I had never taken an international trip before and had no idea what was in store for me. I was scared and apprehensive of what the next three years held for me. I was also excited for a new adventure with my husband of of 17 months. Together we found our seats, and buckled up for our trip.

Several hours later I looked out to see brilliant blue waters below me. We were descending to land. I looked over to Dale (my husband) and asked if we were there already. He smiled and said, “No dear, we are in Honolulu” . I had no idea that the flight would be so long. We had a 45 minute layover there and I said I wanted to breathe Hawaiian air. At that time we could get off the plane and go outside, no security checks, no TSA, just a terminal with doors to go through. We walked outside and smelled the fresh Hawaiian air. Something I thought I would never do. We came back inside and bought an ice cream bar from a vending machine. Vending machines were the only thing that was available, no restaurants like we have now. We got back to our seats ready for the next leg of our journey. That has been my only Hawaiian adventure.

The plane itself was filled mostly with military folks going to a new duty station. We were all young, early twenties and some ‘older folks’ who were in their thirties. There was a party atmosphere on the plane as one of the wineries in California had provided wine for the second leg of the trip. As we drew near to Japan airspace the crowd in the plane was in full tilt party mode. We had all had wine, we had a buffet, we were becoming friends.

It was a rainy evening when we touched down at Haneda airport in Tokyo. We taxied to a stop and the plane grew silent. We had landed and reality hit us all. We had filled out the forms for what we were bringing into the country, and we were ready to head to customs. At the door of the plane, I hesitated, afraid of the next step. Dale gave me a gentle nudge and I started down the stairs. We stood on the tarmac and looked at the signs. Both were in Kanji with English translation below. The first sign said ‘residents’ the second ‘aliens’. Everyone hesitated. Here we were aliens. We did not belong to this country. This was not our home. I will never forget that feeling. I knew I would be there for three years. The bottom line was I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my sisters. I needed to see them. I needed reassurance and hugs. Instead, my husband held out his hand and guided me into the terminal. The first step, done.

Obviously, we made it through customs and met our sponsor from the base who greeted us and got us to our final destination, Yokosuka. Our sponsor became a dear friend who got us settled and ready for what would become one of the greatest adventure of my life.

It was in Japan that I would become a born-again Christian. It was there that I began to realize that we are all aliens on this earth. Our true home for those of us who trust our Lord with our lives, is in Heaven. We are just passing through. We are resident aliens.

II Corinthians 5:1-5 says, “For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away, they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—and we’ll never have to relocate our “tents” again. Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration. Compared to what’s coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we’re tired of it! We’ve been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies! The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what’s ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we’ll never settle for less.” (the Message)