In celebration of our 25^th wedding anniversary we took a cruise to the Southern Caribbean.  One of our stops was the beautiful island of St. Lucia.  I had woken early that morning and gone out on the balcony to see the sunrise and watch the ship dock.  There is something calming about the sea air blowing through your hair and the water gently lapping against the ship.  It was a cloudy morning and you could smell the rain from the passing storms.  As I looked out over the horizon I could see the sun trying to peek through the clouds.  It wasn’t a spectacular sunrise but it was the start of new day and another adventure.  I’d never been here before and was ready to start exploring.

We disembarked and as we were walking to our bus, my phone started buzzing.  I didn’t have cell service on the ship so it wasn’t unusual for there to be a message or two waiting for me when I got back on land.  I ignored it at first, but it continued to buzz; one after another after another.  Once I got settled, I took a look at my phone and one of my group chats had exploded.  I quickly scrolled through the messages and as I scanned them, I could feel the anxiety building … rides to the airport, late night phone calls, coordinating animal care.   It seemed to take forever to get to what started the flurry of activity:  my dear friend’s daughter was contemplating taking her life  As I read the words, I gasped.  My eyes welled up. I was in disbelief. How could all this be happening when I was miles from home?  How could I not be there for my friend?  This was a friend who would drop anything for me.   I quickly messaged her to let her know how sorry I was and that I was sending virtual hugs, love and prayers.   It was all so surreal but God was already at work.

My mind was still swirling as the bus made its first stop at a quaint fishing village. As we pulled in, the heavens opened up. How apropos that as tears were streaming down my face, the rain fell.  It only lasted about 5 minutes and then the skies started to clear. I walked out onto the beach and just stood there as the warmth of the sun embraced me.  I scanned the sky-line and noticed a cliff that jutted out into the clear, turquoise waters.  As I followed its outline up toward the sky, I noticed a simple white cross sitting at the top.  As I stared at the cross and prayed for my friend and her daughter, a feeling of calm and peace blanketed me.  While my heart was heavy, at that moment, I knew God was in control. 

As I headed back to the bus to head off to Soufriere and Diamond Estate, it was clear that my job today was to pray.  I was exactly where I was supposed to be. As I strolled through the botanical gardens toward the waterfall, I made a point to stop and take notice of the little things:  the spirals of the stems on the plants, the fungus growing on the bark of the tree, the unique shapes and colors of the flowers.  My senses were heightened;  there was much to be grateful for.

At dinner that evening a woman who looked to be around my age joined our table.  The cruise was full of groups of friends, couples and families so it struck me as odd that she was by herself.  She was beautiful and well put together.  Her make-up and hair were perfect.  Her clothing was trendy.  In my eyes, she was in a different league.  Self-doubt poured in and I started to question my dress choice and the decision to let my hair dry naturally and not blow it out.  It had been an emotional day and I was feeling insecure. 

We struck up a conversation and as it turns out, we were two woman who had much to share and more in common than either of us realized.  It turns out she also had a teenage daughter.  We talked about the eye rolls, the attitudes and how their mood could change in a matter of seconds.  We also talked about how warm and loving they could be.  This led to me sharing about the news of my friend’s daughter.  Having lost a dear family friend to suicide when I was in college, the magnitude of what had happened started to set in.  All the emotions and memories came flooding back:  the guilt, the anger, the hurt.   It turns out that “this” was something else we had in common.  She had lost her mother to suicide a year earlier.  We cried.  We shared. We healed. 

The Holy Spirit was present at our table that evening.  And while we knew that we wouldn’t travel in the same circles or become the best of friends, what happened that evening was something special and when we reflected on our cruise we would silently smile and be grateful for the grace of God’s healing power.