Alee

Lauren and me as bowgirl and bowman, on the windward
side and loving every minute of it. Proof that it's okay to
to be on the weather side of things now and then.

“Helms alee”, shouted Skip Barber. All I knew then was to duck because we were changing tack and the mainsail would be swinging to the other side of the boat. If I didn’t duck I’d be boom-swept into the sea and left behind. Skip was helmsman or skipper, appropriately enough, as we raced the Caboter during his club racing series. I thought of myself as the gorilla turning cranks as directed and getting to the rail where my weight and eyes were best used. Turns out I was something of a hybrid of actual nautical terms; trimmer, bowman, and pitman. Some things you learn looking in the rearview mirror.

My understanding of lee, leeward, alee, and such nautical terms deepened during sailing trips with Byron and Shirley Trist on their Jubalee! and Jubalee!!. I was content as a bowman or pitman with my skipper shouting orders at me to be heard above the wind. I’m more at ease navigating a river in a raft or kayak.

Let’s consider the terms these friends introduced me to and did so in more ways than out on the water. ‘Alee’ is defined as on or toward the lee which is defined as the side of something that is sheltered from the wind. Aweather, yet another nautical term from days of yore, is the antithesis of alee. If you are ‘aweather’, you are facing the wind and the oncoming storm. One of my most cherished moments of being alee was during one of our church hikes in the High Sierras. We’d set up our camp for the night with tube tents and had gathered the wood we needed for our fire when a storm rolled in complete with lightening and hail while thunder rolled through the mountains. I stowed my gear in the tube tent and hunkered down against the trunk of a huge Ponderosa Pine with my legs stretched out in front of me. I was alee and only the gentle drops of rain that had worked their way through the tree’s canopy reached me. At rest and in the lee after a long day on the trail with the stormy spectacle all around was a complete feeling for me.

Weather we’ve been racing on the waves, barefoot sailing on the Caribbean, or hiking mountain trails, once we find ourselves alee, the calmness of the moment washes over us and soothes our soul like an aloe balm on sunburned skin.

When we are alee, peace is pervading and spreads through every part of us and exists in our hearts. If you let it. The key to finding rest is allowing ourselves to be in the lee of whatever storm is raging around us. Jesus Christ invites us into His rest, a Sabbath Rest, where we are refreshed from our struggles and the toils of our day-to-day lives.

Hebrews 4: 9 & 10: “⁹There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; ¹⁰for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works, just as God did from his."

It is no coincidence that the first thing I sat down to write after completing the memorial booklet for my cousin is Alee. Lee was a man who could provide shelter from the storm and take a person through the wind and rain of the day to the calmer side of things. I’ve a simple mind and making the connection between my cousin Lee and the concept of alee was easy. Our family recently concluded a weekend at Bass Lake to pass through the winds and waves of grief and loss to celebrate his life. It’s fresh on my mind and I’m thankful to the family for providing shelter during the weekend; it was seen in the hugs, the laughter, and the tears of both joy and grief. My kids, grandkids, and Cindy were particularly effective in this for me. Walks along the lake and up the mountain with Demaris provided periods of quiet recuperation as well. I found shelter in all their laughter and the family’s willingness to be vulnerable and in the moment.

Another person who comes to mind while thinking over this concept of being in the lee couldn’t be more further from the physical description of my cousin, he being 6’8” and she pushing just past the 5-foot mark. She’ll likely be a little embarrassed by me calling her out like this but that is one of the hazards of befriending Jer-bear, as she likes to call me. Again, her name is closely related to the term but Allie herself embodies the concept. She is soothing and brings peace into the struggles of the day. Her abilities to provide a calm place have been most in evidence to me during our trips to Mission Arizona. She is an oasis. Thanks Allie.

The point of this is to encourage us to find a sheltered cove, a big old tree, or a person and get relief from the storm that can be our lives. Take the protection offered, find the peace there, and know that Christ is waiting to sooth our hearts with his love.

Friends, enter the Sabbath rest and find peace today.