Yacht Club

 As if my trip wasn't "whimsy" enough...I am now staying in the cute little town of Annapolis...on a freaking yacht!!!

Last night, as me and my dad got closer to town I started getting nervous...
      a boat, wow, it seemed so cool at first, but now that I'm thinking of all the logistical things. I'm     beginning to wonder how this is all going to work out! Are there beds? Are me and my dad  gonna have to share? (not the end of the world, but not ideal!) is there a bathroom? running water? I need a shower!!! 
 But then as we pulled in to be greeted by Tom, a dear family friend, the worries faded as he kissed my cheek and embraced me, "hey hun, good to see ya!" (Instant comfort).

Tom is the kinda guy that when you're with him you don't just want to be better...you ARE better. I've never felt more supported and backed by someone and yet, more challenged. (That balance of Grace and Truth that I've been desperately trying to find...Tom has it!) He's got white hair that flows every which way and untrimmed scruff to match...the combo makes him look masculine and manly "been workin on the boat all day" type of vibe...and yet there's a little hint of Santa or something..."come sit on my lap." (I mean that in the most non-creepy way of course).

Anyways, we begun to get settled in on the yacht and the best way to describe the boat life would be that it feels like glorified camping. The bathroom is the size of an airplane lavatory...you have to kinda slide in sideways, and when you sit on the pot (a removable port-a-potty type deal) your knees touch the door. The bed, once put together, takes up the whole room and everything's tucked away in secret compartments. Like camping, you kinda settle in around the fire because there isn't anywhere to go or anything else to do...no restaurants, clubs, TV's, etc...similarly, once your on the boat you're kinda committed to being on the boat. So me, Tom and my dad hunkered down, space heaters blaring to warm the drafty ship. At one point I sat back and just listened to the old friends reminisce and laugh...an old pastor of mine would call it "holy laughter" (the kind that has a depth, the kind that cures soul wounds). I could be content sitting in that space forever.

How did I get here?!? on a creeky boat, with 2 "old" men, sharing our hearts...