By all accounts I should be dead. Frankly, I am very surprised I am not. What I experienced the night of September 6 tested my endurance and sanity in ways I never thought I could survive. Further, it tested my faith in God, in His existence and in His right to His own sovereign will.
I was tested physically, emotionally, intellectually and, of course, spiritually.
The fact that I am alive, by the grace of God, may be testimony to the fact that I passed the test. Perhaps. However, I deny those statements and attest that my survival is solely a testament to the sovereign will of God. I was in an untenable situation. No, more than that, an impossible situation. An insurmountable, impossible situation.
You see, I fell off a thirty-seven-foot sailing yacht while motoring on autopilot. I was alone. I did not fall into tropical waters near a shore but rather into the ice cold waters of the Strait of Georgia, British Columbia, Canada. I was almost five miles offshore. To add spice to an already complicated challenge, I was not wearing a life jacket.
Quite simply, I was dead. Humanly speaking, there was no way I could survive. In these waters hypothermia strikes very rapidly and is utterly debilitating. In fact, most people do not last an hour in these waters. Life expectancy is anywhere from fifteen minutes to two hours maximum. Assessing my position, I knew right away I would be in the water for well over three hours. In fact, I thought the only way I would get out of the water was when someone pulled my dead body out. I knew I could not survive. It was simply impossible.
But I did.
This is my story. It is a spiritual journey where I expose my weak faith and vindicate a loving, merciful God.
He had His reasons for putting me in the water. For over three hours, we talked about those reasons. Some of those I share with you, and some I don’t. I know why I was there, but I do not know why I am alive.
Why am I alive?