There on the dessert table were numerous little pots of dirt with a leaf coming out of the center.   “I figured, if we eat it, it will be easier to understand the revelation of what we are… Here try some!” Offered Precious. 

I was reluctant, but I went for it.   Wow, what an amazing dessert. 

For the next six weeks, both on Wednesdays and Sundays, Pastor George had me speak, as a revival broke out.   The congregation was thrilled to learn about the biblical festivals, and every week, they raised a love offering for us.   By the end, their love offerings, together with our congregation’s help, provided us with the necessary funds to head to Haiti. 

I would not be able to fit all the amazing things that happened in those six weeks in this story, nor would I be able to mention all the wonderful friends we made, and the things they did for us. 

I do want to mention a beautiful young man formerly named DeMarcus.  The very first time I met DeMarcus, he asked me some question about being holy.  I explained to him that the word holy in Hebrew, means unique, set apart, unlike anything else. “…Like your hair.” I explained while rubbing his head.  He frowned, with a curious smile, trying to figure out what I meant by that.   I realized right away that DeMarcus was himself “holy”, unique, set appart, unlike anyone else. 

  Behind that beautiful frown /smile,  the endless questions, that amazing giving heart, was a young man who’s childhood was robbed by a nightmare of ruthless emotional and physical abuse.   At some point, I must have mentioned the blessing of bringing the first born offering to the house of the L-rd, and his Grandfather was delighted to have a first born redemption ceremony for DeMarcus. 

  “Will these horrible memories go away once I am redeemed?”  Asked DeMarcus with tears in his eyes, having come out of being shut down.  

“I don’t know… But I want you to write down every single memory on a sheet of paper and bring it to your first born ceremony.” I instructed.

When the day of the ceremony came, DeMarcus came up to the front with a list three to four pages long.   It was clear that writing this list was very difficult.   He wanted to read the list out loud, perhaps to vindicate himself, or maybe to vent his sorrow.

“No!..” I instructed as he was about to read.  “Before you do anything… You are about to become a redeemed first born; you have the authority to hold on to that list, in order to condemn the person who hurt you… Or, you can destroy it, forgiving that person and setting them free.”

There was a pause.   DeMarcus frowned.  His eyes flooded with tears.

To be continued

Finally, the widow came back into the living room where we were sitting.  “Could you spell your names?”  She asked as she wrote them down.  Then, she handed us each a check with a large love offering…

We were amazed, and for the first time, began to see the prospect for our journey back to Haiti.

Once we returned to Steinhatchee, Captain called me:  “Rabbi, we just got invited to visit another local church.   Don’t know the Pastor, but I thought we might would be good to go’n and see’um”.

Lisa decided to stay back for this one. She hadn’t dug out her holy, purified, sanctified, glorified dress from the trip, so she stayed on the boat reading her nook.

“I might go’n warn’ya Rabbi: I been told they play that there rock’n roll music he’re.” He said as we drove his pickup truck with camouflage duck tape holding the tail light together.

“Thank G-d!!! maybe these people are normal…” I thought.

We walked into Fellowship Chapel.   A large man holding a curly haired toddler greeted us.   Not the type of greeting one would expect.   It was the greeting you would get from someone who just found out you’re the son of an old best friend.   He had a warm smile and the type of hug where you feel like you have sunk into a pillow of love.   “Welcome.” He said as Captain disappeared into his big arms.

“Well then… alright… amen now.”  Said the Captain once he emerged.  Then it was my turn.   There was a row of youth at the front of the church with their hands up while other youth were leading worship.

“Hey!!!” I thought, “…that red headed kid from the market is up there singing with a guitar.   No wonder he’s always saying G-d bless you.”

Once the worship ended, a youth Pastor got up to speak, but the man who greeted us interrupted.  “Wait a minute brother David, before you go on…” He turned to us. “Is that a ram’s horn?”

“It’s a shofar.”  I said as I raised it up.

“Oh brother David, we can’t miss this…” He said, then turned back to me, “will you blow it?”

“Sure…”   I stood up And sounded the shofar.   There was a spiritual chill in the atmosphere.

“Oh my goodness, did you feel that?”   He asked everyone, then turned back to me and asked: “Your the Rabbi right? Will you come up and say a Word?”

“Sure…”  I got up and spoke, but I have no recollection what I said.

“Rabbi, what are you doing this Sunday? Can you come? Can you speak? We’ll have food.   Bring your family?” He continued.   This was Pastor George…

Sunday morning, I felt impressed to speak about earthen vessels; how G-d simply needs  vessels of dirt to plant His incorruptible seed.  Before arriving at the church, I searched for a variety of vessels so I could show the people a visual.   I had a fancy vase, a crumbled soda bottle, a used up coffee cup, and in particular, I searched for a beer bottle; I wanted to find an empty bear bottle to point out that G-d doesn’t need fancy or perfect vessels to do his work. 

After several hours of searching for a beer bottle, I gave up.  It was time for the service.  We arrived at the church’s parking lot.  “Hey Dad!… There’s one!!!” Exclaimed Noah pointing out the window.  Sure enough, a freshly drunk bear bottle was lying there in the parking lot.

During the message, I was so excited to demonstrate G-d’s amazing plan, that before long, there was dirt, seeds, and vessels littering the entire front.  Some people had a shocked look, others smiled with curiosity.   At one point I was struggling to hold all the vessels at once and dig up a nearby pot of dirt, so Pastor George came up to help.  I promptly handed him the beer bottle and gave every one the opportunity to take a picture.   Every one was rolling with laughter, as some stood with their phones clicking pictures.

In the end, many people came up for prayer.  In particular a very thin frail woman, with dark circles under her eyes and pale skin, came up for prayer.   Perhaps for the first time, she realized there are no discarded vessels in the Father’s house.  She wept…

Wednesday came quickly. Once again the Spirit of Ad-nai moved in an amazing way.

“Can you come see what I made now?” Asked Precious who had been trying to get my attention since we arrived.   She lead me to the dessert table at the end of the potluck food line.  “Look!… In honor of your message…”         

To be continued

“…I don’t get it.   What does it mater if you’r preaching in Steinhatchee, or Haiti? What’s really annoying you?”  Asked one of the Amish men with an accent.

“What is annoying to me is an Amish man asking me annoying questions.” I answered with a friendly chuckle, hoping to break the awkwardness.  He didn’t respond to my dry humor and continued;    “What I hear you saying is: you rather be preaching where you are received and cheered, then where you are rejected and despised…”

In that moment, something rose within me; “NO!… I prefer preaching where Torah, the Word, is received and cheered, rather then where it is rejected and despised.  But that’s beside the point; the issue is:  G-d called my family and me to bring the Torah to Haiti, but we are stuck in Steinhatchee!…”

Several men tried to give suggestions over one another.  I just wanted to go home, which is pretty bad considering I had no home.

“Why are we talking? We need to be praying!” Instructed Jerry.   Then another Amish man began prophesying.  

My recollection of the word he spoke is in part, yet the jest of it, is forever imprinted in my heart.   As the word came, I wept the tears of countless people… “This is not a personal matter concerning this Rabbi.  This is a national matter concerning a nation; the nation of Israel, and how the nations and in most cases, the body of Christ continues to reject Israel and her calling.   This Rabbi is experiencing the weight, the sadness of a people with a very significant call; to be a light to the nations.   The Father’s heart is that we come boldly against the powers and principalities standing in his way; unseen forces holding this Israel from fulfilling her call to be a light to a nation that is actually meant to receive the blessing; the nation of Haiti.”

  The man who spoke that Word embraced me for a very long time, and wept with me.   I suddenly realized, having looked at the meal menu earlier, that everything in it was biblically kosher.   I thanked them for eating a little different for a weekend, on Israel’s behalf.

“Rabbi, I knew you were coming.   I made sure you would be able to eat everything in the menu.”  Informed Brother Gordon after composing himself, for he too, had been weeping with us.    What a refreshing blessing; that my brother would choose to change a meal menu, rather then try to change my understanding of what a vision of un-kosher animals coming down in a sheet meant.
  
Later that evening I learned more about these Amish men.   They were the family of a child who was murdered; the ones who forgave the man who took the child’s life.   Having heard their moving story, the nation of Iraq asked if they would be willing to come teach them how to forgive.   Amazing…

We made many new friends, and throughout the weekend, several Amish families placed love gifts in my hands.

“I wish you could come to my congregation, so my Rabbi and the people could experience this anointing.”  Said the anointing man as we were heading out.

“You’r Rabbi?…” I asked perplexed.

“Yes… Solomon.   Not the senior; he retired, the son: Rabbi Solomon.  He would be so blessed.”  The man continued.

“Well… tell him that you met the greatest Rabbi ever and He sends His love…” I instructed.

“Oh, believe me, I will! Shalom.” He said as we said goodby.

(Incidentally, for those who don’t know me; when I refer to my self as Rabbi, I am never speaking of myself, but rather the ONE who lives in me.  This is why I say: I AM, the greatest Rabbi…)

Before we headed out, brother Jerry, instructed Captain and me to stop at a congregation and meet with a widow.  She was very friendly, but we were very tired and let her know had little time.   After paying for our meal, she asked us to follow her car… We drove threw winding long roads for almost two hours.   Finally we arrived at her home.  She invited us to go inside and there we waited once again for a long time.  I couldn’t understand what about, “we are very tired and don’t have much time” she didn’t understand.

To be continued

During this most trying and uncertain time, I began to notice a pattern of people treating us with unique kindness.   “G-d bless you!”  Said the bright red headed cashier at the local market as I checked out.

“G-d bless YOU!” I responded.  

“Thank you for coming.   I really appreciate your business.”  Said the manager of the local Dollar General…

“Rabbi, whatever water you need, just come fill up your tanks any time.” Said Martain, the owner of Good Times Marina.

For all I know, these people were always kind to me before, perhaps this is how they are to every one.   But for some reason, at a time where we were all at the verge of giving up, their kindness became very noticeable; as if some one turned up the volume so we could hear what was being sung all along.

At this time, Captain and I were invited to an interesting conference.  It was put on by a brother Gordon.  He felt strongly lead to invite people from very different theologic backgrounds, but with a like Spirit.   There was no program set.  The floor was opened for anyone to share as they were lead.   I would normally be pretty excited to hear and share in that setting, but I was not in a good place, and I went pretty much to keep Captain company.

We arrived after a ten hour blue grass honky tonk ride, and by this time I couldn’t even act as if I was interested in some old conference.  I was just tagging along.  At least back in the hotel room there was great wifi. 

Outside the building there were several Amish children playing.   We double checked the address.   This was the place.   A man opened the door as we approached.  “Is this he’a the Kingdom come conference that Brother Gordon put together?” Asked Captain.

“This is It!   Welcome…” The man answered.  Then he looked at me and stopped.  “Whoa…! Brother… the Anointing is all over you…  I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.  Wow…”

“Well, there you have it; Baruch HaShem” (blessed be His Name). I answered.  What ever he was seeing, I sure wasn’t feeling.

I walked around a little, then looked for a place to sit.  I recognized some Amish, but the rest of the folks, I had no idea what their deal was.  As I went to sit, the chair was pulled back for me.   I looked.   It was the guy we met at the front door.   “There you go.  Can I get you some coffee?” He asked.

“Actually I’m ok for now.   Thanks.” I responded.

“Ok… Hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be serving you while you are here.   I don’t want to bother you, so at least as I’m serving you I can be near that anointing that is all over you.” He answered.

“Well, there you have it; Baruch HaShem.”

There were various groups sharing in conversation, but I really didn’t care to participate, so I decided to play a game on my iPad.   Another man sat near me and introduced himself.  “I’m Jerry, and you are?”   He then asked what I was working on for the Kingdom.   I told him a little about Haiti, and apologized for not sounding all that enthusiastic, due to what we had just gone through.

The anointing guy just sat there listening with a big smile, waiting to see if I needed anything.

“Brothers!…” Announced Jerry with a loud voice,  “…I’m sure what you’re sharing is wonderful, but we really need to hear this brother out and see if there is anything we can do to help.”

“Awkward…” I thought.   The room went silent with people waiting to hear what I had to say so they could return to their conversations.

“Here!” Jerry took me to a table with a large group of people.  “Sit here and tell them what you told me.”

This was one of those “if I could find a hole” moments, but there was no hole, so I shared.

To be continued

“…Well”, the resort owner said with hesitation, “We do have one room, but it is not clean or prepared for guests. The people just left and the room won’t be ready till tomorrow. But”, He continued, “…if you don’t mind it, you can take that room and we’ll bring you clean sheets and towels.”

That night, the four of us took showers, watched a movie on TV, and laid across one bed side by side with our feet hanging off the edge. We rested perfectly.

“What do I owe you?” I asked Martin in the morning.

“There is no fee for staying in an unprepared room. Just glad we could help.” He answered.

When we got back to the dock we looked, and Aleph Tav was out there in the river standing upright. Somehow, the bilge pump was able to take more water out than the water flowing in, and once the high tide came in, She was raised out of her side.

During this time, I had no idea how I was going to feed my family, let alone be able to afford another trip to Haiti. We had no home to return to, there was no work available, (especially for Yankees), and in these he’a parts, no holy, purity, first, second, or third southern Baptist church received us as anything more then peculiar visitors.

“So… You’re a Jew?” Asked an Elder at the time the service was ending.

“I am…” I responded.

“Well… Let me ask a question then: do you believe’n Jaysus???” He asked.

“Yes; I’m a messianic Jewish Rabbi.” I answered.

“Alright now… Do YOU believe in Jaysus Christ as you’n persnal Lod’n Savia???”

“Well, of course.” I affirmed

“Being a Jew and believing He is the Savior shouldn’t be a stretch, considering the Bible says He is the King of the…?” I paused and motioned for him to finish the sentence.

“…of kings, Lord’o lords!” He answered.

“Yes, that to… But in particular, in reference to Jews, it says that He is the King of the…?” I waited again for him to finish.

“He’da King of the howl waaad world brother. Ya’ ain’t no Jew, yo,a Christian!!!” He said as if he figured out an amazing puzzle.

“Indeed He is the King of everything, and in particular the Bible says He is the King of the “Jews”. So what is peculiar is that all Jewish people don’t realize He is the King. But perhaps, when the church returns to it’s Jewish roots, and realizes it is grafted into Israel, then more of my Jewish brothers will recognize Yeshua is the King.”

“He ain’t no Jew, he a Christian. Praise Jaysus!” He informed another man as he walked off with his bible tucked under his arm.

Some churches did give us a love gift for which we were truly thankful and it did help us to get food for several weeks. I was even invited to speak, and thought everything went well until the pastor called Captain and told him, if he needed a comedian, he would have hired one…

Then there was the four week teaching on the festivals that I was asked to do for the woman’s prayer group. There were lots of tears, and amazed responses till the very end when a woman asked: “what about HELL! How come all this time you ain’t talk about HELL?…”

It was a most difficult and depressing time.

“Honey, we have to get out of here!” I mumbled to Lisa in the middle of another sleepless night. “There’s no one here who gives a flying care for what we were called to do spiritually, and there is no one secular person who will give me work…”

“I know… It’s so hard.” Agreed Lisa. Let’s just wait a little bit and see what happens.” She suggested.

“But who, if anyone at all, will get us out of this mess and back to the mission we were called to?…” I pondered, convinced such person did not exist.

Well… I know; I should know better. Yes, when you least expect it, from a source you would never dream of. At the risk of dating myself I’ll ask: Do you recall the Iran contra hearings…? Oliver North…? He had a pilot who flew the covert missions…? No…? Ok, how about the Giana tragedy…? “Don’t drink the kool aid”…? Jim Jones…? Well, Jim Jones, cousin, who incidentally was also the pilot for Oliver North’s Iran contra missions, is now retired “somewhere” in Florida. He needed a finish carpenter to work on one of his investment homes, and there you have it… There was G-d’s vessel sent to help us. “When can you start?” He asked

I now had the comfortable means to support my family, but still, what of our trip to Haiti?…

To be continued

The next three days, we sailed back to Steinhatchee where Lisa, the boys, and I would endure six long months.

We arrived in the evening. I am not sure what part of us was most broken; our body, our soul, or our Spirit. We anchored Aleph Tav and went to get a bite to eat. My bones hurt. Worst yet, I had pulled a muscle in my back so badly, that I could barely walk.

No sooner were we served our food, someone came to our table quickly; “Is that your boat???” A young man asked with urgency.

“What boat?” I asked

“The one laying on it’s side in the river?”

I just sat there chewing my food unresponsive. When we were done eating we rode our dingy back. Sure enough, there was Aleph Tav laying on her side taking in water.

“I give up…!” I announced, as if somehow giving up would help anything. I turned the bilge pump on and left with my family in the dingy.

“Where we going?” Asked one of the boys.

“We are going to the Good Times Marina Motel!” I answered.

“Why…?” Lisa asked.

“So we can spend the night in a motel and get a good night’s rest!” I explained.

“How are we paying for that…? We don’t have any money!” She asked.

“Don’t care…” I mumbled.

We walked into Good Times Marina and I approached the owner. “Our trip to Haiti had to end, we are totally spent, and our boat is out there in the river lying on it’s side. Please give us a place to rest for the night!”

“I’m so sorry, we are totally booked. Wish we could help…” He responded.

“We just need a place for the night… Our boat is on the river sideways… We had to cut our Haiti trip short…” I reiterated.

“Yes…” He responded, “you said that… Wish I could do something to help you, but we are completely booked. We have no rooms.”

We turned to walk away.

To be continued

My sarcastic tone triggered something, and Smokey came up to my face. “I’m gonna KNOCK YOU OUT!!!”

I was somewhat confused for a second; I thought that was suppose to be my line…

“You, are NOT allowed to knock me out!” I instructed.

“But I can!!!” He assured me.

“But you won’t!” I reassured him.

“And why not?…” He asked somewhat perplexed.

“Because that would hurt, and if you hurt me, your hurting yourself because we are ONE…” I explained.

Smokey stepped back, “…but it will make me feel soooo good.”

“It will feel better for you to hug me…” I said with open arms.

There was an awkward pause, then Smokey hugged me back.

Way at the back of the marina was Justin. He did not have the joyful cheer in that beautiful face of his that I learned to love. I wanted to tell him something so that he could understand how I felt, yet he looked even more broken and devastated than me. I did manage to tell him how angry and disappointed I was, but shortly after, all I could do was comfort him. More than being disappointed with the failed mission, and experiencing a terrible loss, Justin felt he disappointed and lost “me”, and that was far worse than what we had lost. For in truth, we really didn’t lose anything; we simply suffered a heavy setback that strengthened our determination.

I hugged him and assured him he didn’t lose me; that he couldn’t lose me. And though Ad-nai may have different journeys for us all, our journeys had crossed, and we were family forever.

Justin wept.

Meanwhile, somewhere near the bathrooms, a not so lovey dovey Andre crossed paths with a somewhat intoxicated Smokey. There was no love lost between these two. In fact, Andre very much welcomed an excuse to express himself physically. So, there they were nose to nose, waiting for that blink of an eye moment…

“Come’n now, y’all might don’t want to go’n and to that!” Suggested Captain as the stand off intensified. Just then, Lisa came out of the bathroom, and in super Wonder Mom lightning speed, jumped between the two of them, bringing the near boil to an immediate cool down. Smokey apologized, and walked away.

“Mom… You don’t even know… You just saved that guy!” Mumbled Andre.

Back at the end of the marina, I continued comforting Justin, then asked him where His beloved was. He pointed, and we headed in that direction. There was Chelsea, sobbing in Lisa’s arms while Lisa comforted and caressed her hair. After much consoling and encouraging, we took them out for a meal and thus, completely failed in the mission I had to make them feel bad for our loss.

To be continued

Just as suddenly as the storm hit us, it vanished.   We were all somewhat stunned.  We began cleaning up the aftermath left behind as everything in the boat and above deck looked like we all felt; broken and undone.

No sooner did we straighten everything up, another storm enveloped us.  Thunder, and lightning, amidst the furious darkness.  We held tight.   Behind us, Hazak disappeared in and out of the huge swells.   Again, I heard: “This was waiting for them…”  And once again, Yod Hey only saw it in the distance behind them.

  That storm finally passed.   It was difficult, but bearable, because the first storm forced us to prepare ourselves; hatches battened, lines wrapped tightly, sails rift etc.  It was now evening, and we had about a day and a half ahead of us before reaching Marathon, Florida.  

“…(fuzz) …on this civilian maritime 07 (fuzz)…  break, break, over?…”   Came a faint call over the radio.

I turned the squelch up.   “This is (fuzz)… on this maritime 07, Do you copy, over?…”

When the reception became clear we were astonished.   “It’s Rambo frik’n Ray!!!” I shouted as if I just resurrected out of a coma.   We couldn’t believe it, after some five days of sailing aimlessly lost somewhere between Cuba and the Bahamas, Ad-nai  placed Simiron right in our return path.

They were beyond exhausted, had little fuel, and had lost their navigation instruments.

“Hey Simiron, glad to see your still with us, over…” Came Smokey’s faint voice over the radio.

“YOU!!!” Responded Rambo Ray “… Are an old, dilusional, fool, and those psychotic and evil kids with you… I swear!!! You’re fish food when I see you. Maritime 07 break, break.”

For the remainder of the trip, we enjoyed the comic relief of hearing Rambo Ray flipping out on the Yod Hey. In looking back, it wasn’t actually funny, but I confess, in my humanness I didn’t mind hearing them get put through the coals.   I too was angry.   I still couldn’t believe that my family and I had sailed through blizzard conditions, got frozen in, layed sideways nearly shipwrecked, and so much much more, yet never once did we so much as consider giving up, and now here we were going backwards.

By this time, Simiron had just about run out of fuel as yet another storm approached.  We came near their port in heavy seas, and tossed them a long line with two five gallon tanks of diesel.   This allowed them to make it back to Marathon.   A third storm covered us, and this one lasted, and lasted, and lasted, all night long.   We were beyond exhausted.

  Finally we arrived at Marathon.  With the little strength I had left, I prepared our dingy to go ashore.  I had to see the Yod Hey’s crew.  I had no idea what to say to them, but I had to say something.  

There… At the end of the City Marina dock, was Smokey heading my way. 

“Father.” I asked, “…please don’t let me do or say anything wrong.”

A burst of adrenalin made my body shake as Smokey drew near.   “Are you safe now?…”  I asked with a stern voice.

“Sure’am!” He responded with a smile.

“Good! Then my mission is accomplished… Shalom” I answered as I walked away.

“Bye!…” He said with a sarcastic wave.

“Yes… Bye” I repeated sarcastically.   At that he turned and came toward me…

To be continued.

Aleph Tav’s motor went silent.  

  By the way, if you didn’t already know; when you see a beautiful sailboat with its majestic sails raised proud, a white wake on its bow, there is a brass prop connected to a motor beneath all that glamour. Sure, most sailboat captains will say: “I love to sail…”, but very few would dare leave port without that trusty motor.   In fact, if you see water spit out of the back of a sailboat in intervals, just grin and say: “wow… Look at that sailboat go…”

  Faced with the most discouraging decision ever, we now had to bleed the fuel lines, as Yod Hey distanced herself from us.   Breathing diesel fumes in the middle of swell leads to one thing alone: lots and lots of vomiting…

“I SWEAR I’M GONNA PUNCH SOMEONE IN THE  #%&@ing MOUTH so #%&@ing HAAAARD!!!!” ranted Andre over the radio.

“Andre!” I attempted to calm him in between vomits, “For the sake of their life, we have no other choice, we have to escort them back.”

“I’LL #%&@ing KILL THEM ALL MYSELF, THEN WE WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THEIR #%&@ing SAFETY ANYMORE, WILL WE?!!!!!!!” Raged Andre

After some time, we finally got our engine running, turned Aleph Tav around, and Hazak followed perfectly behind.   Yes, at times we all come to face with situations where there are no other options, and even Andre came to realize that… I’m sure the fact that his boat was being towed by Aleph Tav helped his decision.

For a couple days we sailed without saying a word.   All we could hear behind us, from time to time was a faint:

“I’M GONNA PUNCH SOMEONE IN THE  #%&@ing MOUTH so, so, so #%&@ing HAAAARD!!!!”

It was dreaded…   Like being in a never ending funeral procession in slow motion, not knowing where the cemetery was.  Except in this case, it was all somehow to preserve life; the life of people who now left us far behind.

It was silent, miserable, hopeless… Indescribable.   Four days… Four long, long days and nights staring at a compass bobbing back and forth.  

Then it came… Right from behind with little warning; a severe tropical depression.   By this time, we had caught up with La Victoria, and were sailing side by side.  Like a freight train we got hit with a severe storm, the worst we had ever experienced at sea.   Unable to reef the sails, both La Victoria and Aleph Tav went from 3 knots to 7 knots in seconds, and we were both heeled to starboard with our sails near the water.  Neither Captain or I could control our vessel other then to just hold on to what ever the course set by the storm.   The rain struck like bullets, and we had zero visibility.

“STARBOARD!!! STARBOARD!!! STARBOARD!!!”  Shouted Captain over the radio, unaware that the storm had whipped Aleph Tav hard to starboard.  

“We’re good! We’re good Captain.  We’re good!!!” I assured him, having seen a brief glimpse of La Victoria through the darkness, and realizing the storm had affected both our vessels with perfect synchronicity.

Yod Hey who was now some 20 miles ahead of us, only saw the dark storm far behind them…

“This was waiting for them…”  I heard in my spirit.

To be continued

I looked at Lisa with disbelief…  I just couldn’t grasp the thought that after some four months of suffering, and so much loss, everything we, and even loved ones had gone through, was being weighed on a broken balance.   It’s as if we had prepared for the toughest marathon of our lives, and suddenly,  when we were so close to the finish line, someone who just joined in decides to quit…  

One may wonder: what’s the big deal?… Let them quit.   …Just keep running.

Oh…  If it was that simple.  You see, out in the middle of the ocean, you can’t quit and walk home.   Quitting means, making a journey identical to the hell you have just suffered, going BACKWARDS!!!… And in their case, they were in a 27 foot boat with a skipper consumed with fear, and a young couple with no sailing experience.

Still one may wonder?… That’s their decision.   …You keep running.

Oh… How I wish we could have just done that.   But once again, the journeys Ad-nai places before us, have twists and turns with crucial moments of decision that are never simple… Actually, the decision is always simple, but the consequences are eternal…

I sat on the bottom deck experiencing a range of emotions that have no words to describe, but they lead only to one thing… Weeping… And I wept…

There haven’t been many moments in my life where I have literally cried out to G-d.   This was one of them… Perhaps the worst of them…

“Have I done something wrong???  Have my words, thoughts, actions, or deeds, disqualified me and my family…”  My question revealed the broken state of mind I was in.  Certainly on any normal day, this would be a very ridiculous question; I’m certain that my words, thoughts, actions, and deeds, disqualified me every day.  But still,  I asked.  Perhaps because even in my brokenness I knew I was not called for this mission because of my words, thoughts, actions, or deeds…

“Please Father!… Please!… Tell me what I’ve done, that I may repent and continue forward… Don’t leave me here not knowing what to do… Please!!!!… I don’t know what to do…” I cried and cried…

After what seemed like an endless eternity, a simple whisper came to me: “Torah preserves life, will they be alive before they make it back home?”

Then I remembered the words Smokey had just spoken, “We’re all gonna die!!!”

So I answered, “I can’t say if they will live or die, but I have the Torah on board Aleph Tav, and I can follow them back home to do my best to help them stay alive…”

Funny, I wanted so much to “repent” for something, so that I could continue forward.   What an oxymoron, considering that “teshuvah” (repentance in Hebrew) means to turn around…

I rose up and looked at Lisa.   “Honey… Is there any other way?…”  I asked.   “No Peter, we have to do what we have to do…”

“But this means everything we have gone through has been for nothing.   And now, all our provisions for the trip forward, will be spent going back to that forsaken gnat infested, redneck, anti  Jewish, racist confederate hell hole, with no way or means to make the journey again!…” I vented 

“I know…” She answered as she prepared for the trip back.  

“Captain… We have to take them back.”   I spoke over the radio.

La Victoria prepared to turn around right behind Yod Hey.

Andre who had become extremely seasick from gutting his prize barracuda came on the radio:  “Dad…   what the #%&@ is GOING ON!!!!!!!????   I SWEAR I’M GONNA PUNCH SOMEONE IN THE  #%&@ing MOUTH!!!!”

Just then, a heavy swell tossed us up and over, just enough for the motor’s intake to swallow up a gulp of air.   And let me tell you, if you didn’t already know; diesels do not like air in the fuel lines.

To be continued