Some time later, another heavy metal door opened, and a guard came through escorting the Captain’s daughter. The guard handed her to the Captain and walked back through the door shutting it with a forceful bang behind him.

It was touching to see a side of Captain not often seen, as he briefly held his daughter in his arms. Quickly after, we got in the car and drove off.

As I prepared myself for the long journey back I pondered, how could a simple piece of paper carry so much weight…

“That paper?!…” I asked.

“Oh… this he’a paper is a letter from our county Judge who knows the work I’ve done in Haiti. It is an order to have my daughter released to me and placed in my custody until her court date.”

This was profound to me; 30 years of binding wounds, comforting the broken hearted, feeding the hungry, shining the Light in places of darkness… 30 long years of setting the captive free, granted Captain Raymond the favor of a Judge, releasing his daughter into his care with one single piece of paper.

Suddenly the long ride back from Texas to Steinhatchee Florida was not so long at all. Every mile that past by, I was reminded that our reward is not found at the end of some journey. The reward is the journey. And the step across the finish line, if that step should ever come, will be a step like any other step: amazing and even inspiring to those who are spectators, but common to those who have been running.

We arrived at Steinhatchee and I was delighted to get back to finalizing some last minute preparation to continue our journey. Three, maybe four more days tops, and we would be under sail heading toward blue waters…

“…Captain PLEASE!!! he’s 83 years old, his crew abandoned him, and he is all alone out there… Please, please, please help us.” Came a weeping voice over Captain’s rooster phone.

“Gaaaaalee Rabbi!!! Maaa gash!!! We don’t have time for this! We need to be fixi’n to sail on outa’hea, and I mean like now!…”

To be continued