Through the Ice

"Slow down!” I shouted to my husband, Wayne, raising my voice so he could hear me above the roar of the snowmobile. “I don’t want to drop the cake!”

I held on to Wayne’s waist with one hand and the cake with the other as we sped across the ice toward church.

After the work I’d put into baking a raspberry torte for our congregation’s annual Christmas tea party, I wanted it to arrive in one piece. Same for the cranberry-wreath centerpiece I’d made and stowed in an L.L.Bean tote bag that now teetered precariously on Wayne’s lap.

Our church had been good to us over the years; hosting a table at the party was a way for us to give back. The sooner we got there, the better.

A trip to church can be difficult where we live. We’re caretakers of some cottages on an island just off the coast of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The only way to the mainland is by crossing Snows Channel, by boat in warmer months and by snowmobile when the water freezes.

This year’s freeze came earlier than expected. Just a few days ago Wayne took some decorations to church by boat, but now a band of white was the only sign the channel was there. We’d made our first snowmobile crossings of the season last night when Wayne’s sister, Joyce, her husband, Bert, and their daughter came to stay for the weekend.

Our snowmobile labored back and forth three times to pick up them and their luggage. The trip took longer since Wayne had to dodge weak patches in the ice. He complained we needed new studs on the track. I hoped our crossing would go smoothly today.

The wind made it feel colder than the single-digit forecast. Wayne eased back on the throttle as we cut through a slush puddle about 200 yards off shore. Other than causing messy splashes, they’re usually not a problem. But this time the snowmobile skidded. We bogged down to a stop.

Should’ve replaced those studs. Wayne gunned the engine. Crack! The snowmobile pitched backward. I clutched Wayne, nearly dropping the cake. Snap! The snowmobile rocked forward.

It was no slush pocket...we’d hit a weak spot in the ice. We’re going in! The lake gulped up the snowmobile. My lower body plunged into the frigid water.

The cake! Crazy as it sounds, I was worried about it. I held it above my head, kicking my legs furiously to stay afloat.

-----

Read more true stories of God’s miracles during the holiday season in Christmas Miracles.