When Your Ship Sails Away

And so it ends.

I began planning for Semester at Sea in January of 2014. For an entire year I researched, read, studied, compared, reserved, and planned for our trip.  I watched documentaries about the Vietnam war.  I read stories of survival during the days of the Khmer Rouge.  I read part of Nelson Mandela's The Long Walk.  I bought Pepto Bismol, headlamps, ear plugs, water bottles, shampoo, peanut butter, antibiotics, sunscreen, and way too much chapstick for some reason.  But most of all, I dreamed.

I dreamed of what it would be like to visit the dark ruins of Angkor Wat in Cambodia.  I dreamed of finally setting foot in India, a place I had always longed to visit.  I dreamed of facing a great white shark in icy waters. I dreamed of pho soup in Vietnam, temples in Myanmar, and red sand dunes in Namibia.  I dreamed of life on a ship -- high waves, sunsets, seasickness, and weeks without any land in sight.  I dreamed for an entire year before I ever even packed my bags to go.

In many ways, my dreams came true, often better than I imagined.  I saw where the atomic bomb fell on Hiroshima, but I also saw Sadako's tiny paper cranes she folded with her dying hands.  Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom moved me to the core with their grand and beautiful shapes.   I crawled through the Cu Chi tunnels not alone, but with Viet Cong sympathizers, who also happened to be my friends.  I ate dumplings in Shanghai, with a dear friend who had spent Christmas with us years before. I climbed Lion's Head in South Africa at sunset watching Cape Town twinkle below my feet.  I worshiped with blacks and whites on Easter Sunday in Namibia.  I ate sublime curries and paratha on the coast of India while the warm breezes ruffled my hair.  My dreams came true and then some.

While seeing the world was better and more wonderful than I imagined, another surprise along the way made my trip unforgettable: the people.

Traveling on a ship with 900 people is crazy fun.... particularly when you're an extrovert.  The first day I came on board, I was on page 12 of a new book.  A few days later,  Sydney asked what page I was on.  I said,"I think I'm on page 8." She said,"You're going backward?!" I never read another page.

Kerry asked me one day, "Do you even remember how to read?"  He mocked what he did not understand.  You see, when you're an extrovert whose normal days consist of homeschooling 3 children, and you have a chance to be with 900 adults every single day from morning until night, this is no time to read!

The community on the ship was just as important to us as the countries we were visiting.  This is what sets Semester at Sea apart.  You are traveling with fascinating people who share an interest in growing, learning, and enjoying the world.  The same people with whom I ate, played Scrabble, worked out, discussed issues, worshiped, and traveled became my friends.  Lifelong friends.  You don't go through such formative experiences together without forging bonds. We became family.

As my friend said, "I didn't forget that we saw the world, but we saw it together. And that's what made it so special."

And now Semester at Sea is in the rear view mirror. 

As I was opining about the end of this dream, something important occurred to me. Our whole family went on this trip, and we all came home. It could have been different. With a few short-lived exceptions, we were all healthy and able to participate in all aspects of the trip. We had nothing lost or stolen. The one bag the kids forgot (in a car rental place in Cape Town) contained only bathing suits, a $4 beach towel, and a couple of t-shirts. Indeed, it could have been very different.

And while some might call it good luck or say the universe was smiling on us, I believe there was something else in play.  God.  He was with us every step of the way. He sent us out, guided us, protected us, led us, and brought us home. 

One of the last nights on board, when the ship was plowing through the waters off the coast of Spain, I couldn't sleep.  I was trying to figure out how one goes back to grocery shopping and doing dishes after sailing around the world.  And I was scared.  Scared of my dream being in the rear view mirror.

Then God spoke to me. Not in an audible voice, though I wouldn't put it past him. God reminded me that the same One who guided my steps all the way around the world, isn't going anywhere.  He's going to keep guiding me at home, in my neighborhood, and maybe (hopefully) to some far flung place again one day. God will still be my constant horizon even when I'm on land.  And with that important thought, I was finally able to fall asleep.

And as if to underscore his point, just one day before we docked in Southampton, England, we saw the most vibrant double rainbow I've ever seen. It was so close, it looked like you could reach out and touch it.  But the most amazing part was that you could see it so perfectly in the water, it looked like a complete circle. A giant, glowing, vibrant rainbow circle welcoming us to England, our final port of call.  It was so spectacular, they even made an announcement on the loud speaker, urging everyone to go to the back of the boat to see it.

When I saw it I immediately thought of the description of heaven and the throne of God.  Revelation 4 says: "There before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it.  And the one who sat there had the appearance of jasper and ruby.  A rainbow that shone like an emerald encircled the throne." And to further complete the picture, it says, "In front of the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal." I'm telling you, that rainbow almost brought me to tears.  It felt like a glimpse of heaven, a foretaste of another circular rainbow by a crystal sea.  

Yes, God will be with me every step of the way. And with him, the end of one adventure just means the beginning of the next one.

P.S. I want to say a special thank you to those of you who followed our journey these past four months.  By reading our blog and looking at our pictures, by commenting and letting us know you knew where we were, you gave us a great gift. We knew you cared.  Even in the middle of the sea, we felt connected to you.  Thank you for remembering us.