“Hold on, Mac, I’m not going to leave you!” shouted Gerry Ponson, the vapor rising from his breath in the cold December air. He never thought he’d be in a mess like this. He and Mac had shoved off at 5 am with Booga, their black lab, to go duck-hunting across the three-mile bay near New Orleans.

They were halfway across when a nor’wester came down the channel, tossing their boat like it was a toy. The boat sank, and now Gerry and Mac were clinging to a pole they’d been able to spear into the mud. But Mac was older and losing strength. “Where’s Booga?” Mac gasped. “I told him to git,” shouted Gerry over the wind, “I can’t hold onto both of you.” He knew the dog would never make it. He’d thought about leaving Mac, swimming for help, but even if he got to shore, it was another five miles to the nearest phone. They had no choice, they’d have to wait, hoping against hope that a boat would come up the channel and see them. “I can’t hold on anymore,” moaned Mac. “Hang on, Mac, somebody’ll come.”

He didn’t really believe that. He was never much of a believer in anything. When his sister had talked to him about God, he kicked her out of the room, calling her a fruitcake. Smash. A huge wave drenched them. “Hold on, Mac.” Gerry didn’t need any false hope with some so-called God. Smash. Another wave. He didn’t know how to start a conversation with God, anyway. “I can’t hold,” said Mac. “Yes, you can!” commanded Gerry. He then looked up and said, “God, if you hear me, please—I need another chance, send us a boat.” Two minutes later, Gerry experienced the most powerful godwink of his life. Out of the mist he saw a cross. He blinked. No, it wasn’t a cross, it was the mast of a boat. He took off his shirt, tied it to the pole, Holding onto Mac, he waved it in the air. This was impossible…they’d never see two people floating where they shouldn’t be. But they did. A small boat was coming from the big boat, somebody pulled them in, and as they climbed aboard the big boat, Gerry had the most powerful godwink. The name on the big boat was “Second Chance.” And when they got to shore, there was Booga the dog.

Gerry Ponson has been a believer and a New Orleans street preacher ever since.

You see? Our God is a God of Second Chances! And He demonstrates that through Godwinks in each of our lives. I’m SQuire Rushnell…Good wishes and godwinks.

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