On our very first date, Kim and I agreed to live on a lake.
As we began the process of getting to know each other, we got talking about our ideal place to live. For some reason, Idaho was mentioned. (When you grow up in a small town in Illinois surrounded by cornfields, almost everywhere feels more exotic.) We talked of mountains and potatoes (obviously), but pine trees and lakes took precedence.
We both agreed that living on a lake surrounded by tall pine trees would be an ideal place to settle down. (We didn’t necessarily know it would be together.)
The two of us dated for five years before getting married, and that vision of lake living stayed with us. We never lived on any of the four lakes that make up the heart and soul of Madison, Wisconsin, in the twenty years we called it home. We did spend hours and hours walking along those lakes, dreaming and scheming together, trying our best to figure out how to make it happen.
We were also open to other lakes in other locations. We just knew it needed to be bigger than a pond, something large enough to accommodate a pontoon boat. We tried on lots of places, including Idaho, where we finally visited for the first time while celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary. After all those years, we couldn’t shake the dream of living on a lake.
We never anticipated it would be a Great one.
Sheboygan didn’t hit our radar until one day during the height of the pandemic. A friend of ours knew our dream. He took note of the fact that we often took vacations near the ocean because we loved the sound of the waves, and suggested we check out Lake Michigan (which looks a lot like an ocean when you’re standing on the shore, unable to see the other side).
The idea had never occurred to us. We pulled up a map and surveyed the cities east coast of Wisconsin. What about Sheboygan? I had spoken there once, and remember enjoying a few moments I had to spend sitting by the lake. We googled it, and learned it was known as the Bratwurst Capitol of the World and the Malibu of the Midwest because of its unique geographical qualities that provide ideal surfing conditions.
That kicked off a magical and miraculous journey, a long story made short by saying we now live in Sheboygan. On a lake.
This painting celebrates Sheboygan, the funny-sounding city on the shores of Lake Michigan, known for brats and surfing. But it also represents our prayers.
Saying a prayer is like launching a message in a bottle into the ocean. Once a prayer leaves your heart, you lose all control. You hope it reaches God, but once it floats out of sight, it’s easy for doubt to creep in: Did it get lost? Swallowed by a shark? Did it reach its destination only to be rejected or forgotten? You might be tempted to wonder how you could have been so foolish to trust in such an uncontrollable, unpredictable, mysterious method. Did you think this would actually work?
Our prayer to live on a lake was a message in a bottle. It floated out there for two decades.
The dream felt more and more foolish as the years wore on and our business took longer to grow than we’d expected. There were times I thought the dream was lost at sea. There were moments I wished it really was, because I was so weary from wondering what happened to it. I figured it would be easier, and less painful, to have never dreamed the dream or prayed the prayer at all.
Maybe you have a prayer like that, a message in a bottle that you’re certain is lost. I can’t tell you how your prayer will be answered, but I know for sure it’s not lost. It’s definitely not forgotten.
Somehow, our prayers find our way back, with answers washing up on unexpected shores at unexpected times. But it’s always at exactly the right time and delivers exactly what we need, even if it looks different than we imagined.
God will not let you miss your future.
It takes faith to release a prayer into the great unknown, and that faith is always rewarded.