I awoke in a cabin on the shore of Lake Michigan a few miles west of the Mackinac Bridge on the northern most tip of lower Michigan to the sound of light waves breaking on the gentle shore. After a big breakfast fit for a male outing, my 10-year old son, Michael, and I were standing in our waders, with brother-in-law Dave and nephews Caleb and Enoch, in the shallows of Sturgeon Bay, lazily urging the bass to bite. It was a bright morning, and although we caught very little, there was cool breeze on a warm day, with the expansive clear waters stretching to the shores of Upper Peninsula. The only concerns were keeping bait on the hook and finding the rock refuges of the reticent fish. I doesn’t get any better, it seemed to me.
It was the final day on our fishing expedition, and after an ice cream and coffee in quaint Mackinaw City, and buying fudge for the women in our lives, we headed south to my sister’s house in Grand Rapids, where our families were gathered.
Amazingly, the best part of my day was yet to come. An exuberant wife, happy to see me, noticeably even more happy than usual, greeted me. After pleasantries, Debbie took me by the hand and we went to our downstairs room, and she urged me to kneel with her by the bed, where she began to pray.
“Thank you, Lord, for bringing back safely to me my husband. . . and the father of our new child.”
As I’m processing what she’s prayed, she leaps to her feet and grasps a positive pregnancy test indicator, with all the right lines. We’re going to have a baby. We embraced and kissed and tears rolled down my cheeks. We plotted an announcement to the family, and spent the rest of the evening sharing the good news.
A great day, indeed.
--James Jewell
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