A Story to Tell

Not everyone went on our annual Lake Powell trip, but those who did will remember this one for a long time!

Most of the trip was expected—riding on a wave runner and the Poparazzi with cousins, swimming, surfing, reading, watching movies and eating popcorn and Hot Tamales, playing games, two Sunday devotionals, and eating veggie sandwiches nearly every day for lunch.

The two differences were going to Rainbow Bridge (something we hadn’t done since Sara and Sean were dating), and the winds blew at record speeds (70 mph gusts!). In fact, we had to go back to the marina earlier than anticipated when two of the anchor lines on one side of the houseboat broke during one of the gusts.

I won’t go into much detail, but when it happened, there were two of the younger kids swimming near the houseboat. Thankfully they were on the opposite side, as the wind blew the houseboat parallel to the beach, or they would have been smashed to death. Two others were on the back of the ski boat that got pushed onto a rock. We feel very blessed!

Earlier in the week, when the wind started blowing and we were telling the younger kids about eventful (and sometimes scary) Lake Powell trips, they complained that they didn’t have any stories to tell. Well, now they have a story to tell! As scary as that situation was, when Grandpa asked the grandkids if they wanted to go to Lake Powell again, they looked at him with eyebrows raised and responded (with a duh tone of voice), “Yeah!” I guess that means we’ll look forward to our family tradition continuing for years to come, and that makes me happy!