The rest of the ride didn’t go nearly so well. I was thrown from the vehicle twice, the  first time was not so bad. The water was warm and it was kind of cool to be floating inside of my life jacket in the middle of the ocean waiting to be saved. The second time it happened—I was p#!sed off! Every bone in my body ached, my arms were like rubber, and I had a king-sized headache. I prayed again. This time alternating my prayers between holding back my increasing nausea and praying to puke—projectile all over the back of my husband who talked me into this adventure.  I’m not so sure that’s a proper use of prayer but it’s honest.

Praise to You
Who whispers to us in a spring breeze,
in the sigh of leaves overhead,
in the chuckle of a running stream.

Praise to You
Who cries out to us in the roar of waves
endless, ever present, all encompassing,
making You known.

Praise to You
Who calls to us in the pop and creak of ice,
in the thump of snow sliding in the stillness of a frozen day.

Praise to You
who puts Your song in the hearts of the birds
and in all who gather to sing to You.
Praise to You.

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