Proof The Bible Is True

Dense fog shrouded the water. Beyond the dock, where a small skiff was tied up, all I could see was a milky mist. It looked like it was a day better for holing up inside the lighthouse where my wife and I were staying than going out on the water.

 

There was a reason, after all, why the Little River Lighthouse was here, perched on a tiny speck of land off the coast of Maine, opposite the town of Cutler. The shoreline was rugged, littered with jagged, treacherous rocks.

 

But I didn’t have a choice. Marilyn and I were volunteering as lighthouse caretakers, a dream come true for lighthouse buffs like us. One of our jobs was to ferry overnight guests to and from the mainland, a mile away. As an experienced boater, I knew it could only be done safely at high tide.

 

Right now. I’d pushed the loaded luggage cart from the far side of the island, where the lighthouse, the keeper’s house and the foghorn were. Now I maneuvered the cart down the ramp to the 15-foot skiff. Marilyn and our visitors, Gene and Sally, trailed behind me.

 

They were counting on me to get them back to Cutler. I helped Sally into the boat and handed her a life vest. Gene put on his vest and climbed into the kayak he’d paddled over on.

 

“Follow close behind us, okay?” I said to Gene.

 

“Absolutely,” he said.

 

Gene was the one I was worried about, not me. Granted, we rarely had fog like this where we lived, on the Florida Panhandle. But I had a compass. I knew how to chart a course. I’d been a fighter-jet navigator in the Air Force.

 

At times like this, when you couldn’t trust your eyes, you had to trust your instruments to guide you.

 

Gene pushed away from the dock and waited for us to lead the way. I started the engine while Marilyn untied the lines and hopped in.

We crept through the water. Normally it was only a 10-minute trip to Cutler, and we’d have a clear view the whole way of its picturesque harbor, busy with hulking lobster boats, cabin cruisers, sloops and kayaks. Now I couldn’t make out a thing.

 

Read More: Guided by a Divine Navigator – Guideposts