Ode To A Lighthouse

I am a lighthouse, worn by the weather and the waves.
And though I am empty, I still warn the sailors on their way.
— Nickel Creek

Lighthouses have always held a bit of a fascination for me... Always from a bit of distance... Always in a picture.

This summer, Marcia and I spent about a week on an island in the middle of Lake Michigan - Beaver Island. And the picture above was of a wonderful lighthouse on that island called Whiskey Point. Travelogue mode off (click!)

As we left the island on a two hour ferry ride it was during a thunderstorm. Rain, lightning, thunder, a little wind, choppy waters. Besides my propensity for motion sickness, I thought to look back at the island and try to spot the lighthouse through the mist and fog of the storm. I kinda knew where to look and so as a searched I believe I perceived the slowly undulating red light. My light. My guide.

The problem was I (and the rest of ferry) was moving away from the lighthouse, away from safe harbour, away from a mooring, a pier, a place to set my feet. We were heading out into the storm seas.

My hope was that there was going to be a lighthouse on the other side of the lake to illuminate our way into that harbour. Sure, the captain has navigated this route a hundred times in even more dangerous situations. But, still...

What about you? Are you willing to leave the safe harbour of your comfortable life and head out into the storm? With only the hope of a lighthouse on the other side to keep you from dashing the ship of your existance into the rocks?

Pray and obey.