It's a Mormon Thing

Our annual trek to Montana is quickly approaching and our family has been reminiscing about the wonderment and absolute serenity of Big Sky Country.

If you've never ventured to the Big Fork area (specifically Echo Lake), you're missing out on a spectacular part of the world. Glacier National Park should be on everyone's must-see-before-I'm-6-feet-under list.

Breathtaking. Peaceful. Earthy. Centering. Rejuvenating.

As we've been talking about past trips and memories formed at The Cabin, the topic has turned to whether or not the boat is going to be running in tiptop shape this year. Kennedy is eager to learn to slalom, Taiden wants to wakeboard, and Britt is ready for his maiden voyage on H2O stix. The boat occasionally pleads for mercy and reminds us of its age by refusing to start or sputtering gas and oil into the water.

Or maybe the boat just doesn't like to start easily for Jeff and his older brother Darin, because it remembers them in their youth. Perhaps it remembers Jeff's invisible ink jokingly being sprayed on Darin's new shirt and the teenage brother ruckus that followed - while afloat. The hubbub that took focus off of driving the boat and the commotion that ended them up across the bay and onto the shore. (And by, the shore, I mean, dry land.) The tomfoolery that tore a hole into the side of the boat, broke the windshield with Jeff's head, and landed him in the hospital awaiting stitches.

Do you think a boat can hold a grudge?

Last summer, we were out on the lake with our kids and a nephew when the boat decided it was done. It was kaput. Try as he might, Jeff could not get the engine to fire up. We floated and drifted into shore - on the other side of the lake. We waited for our rescue crew - back on the dock - to come save us, but they were having too much fun to notice that we had been gone for a very long time. With the sun beating on us and no hopes of getting out of the situation anytime soon, a suggestion was made that we say a prayer.

So, we prayed.

Shortly after the prayer, our nephew (who is not a member of our LDS faith) became emotional. We asked him what was wrong. We soon realized that our action of saying a prayer made him feel that we were doomed and were surrendering to our dire situation. He felt a mortal white flag was being waved and he was not comfortable with that notion.

Jeff quickly reassured him.

"Hey, it's OK. We're Mormons. We pray about everything!"

My husband speaks the truth.

The boat eventually gave up its grievance, the engine started, and we made it safely back to our side of the lake. My kids learned about the power of prayer and our nephew learned that we Mormons bow our heads on a regular basis.

Now if the boat can just learn a lesson on forgiveness...