Setting sail

The inner urging undeniable.

And so…

I climbed aboard.

Man’s lights, blinked and blurred through the misty morning, but I lifted my eyes toward the foggy black sky…and searched for His.

“Set sail.”

She didn’t rock to waves under her bow, filling her sails, pulling her out to sea.

His Voice was clear.  

I sat in the dark—that deep dark that stretches minutes into hours just before dawn—and yearned for Light.  

She didn’t pull against ropes lashed to mooring balls floating in port.

 “From here.”

The black started to fade.

Set sail…from here?

Light splashed the eastern horizon.

I crawled over the stern, and stepped out of the boat.

She didn’t move.

My foot didn’t sink or slip.

She sat silent and still, on her trailer, in the driveway, under the carport…

His Voice was clear.

“Set sail from here.”

Her identification tag read Newport. Her name read Intercessor.

The sun peaked over the horizon, and smiled.

The Son, peaked my understanding, and smiled.

 I felt the wind in my sails, and smiled.

Intercessory prayer is like setting sail from a new port every morning.

See the rainbow at top of mast? God smiling.