So this summer Brian found a wonderful deal on a little sailboat for the lake at the cottage. He was so excited—as excited as Brian can be—to get out on the lake.

On his third trip out he noticed that the auto bailer (the device on the boat that automatically pumps out water that gathers in the boat) was not working properly. He did some Googling and thought he had figured out the problem. So when the wind picked up on this particular afternoon, he invited me to join him.

It was the most wind we had experienced in a while, and Brian was practically giddy (again, as giddy as Brian can be) to get out on his new toy and share the adventure with me.

I met him on the dock, grabbed a bright yellow life jacket, and off we went.

It was windy. A sailor’s dream, and a non-sailor’s nightmare.

The boat was moving quickly and that was fine, but water began gathering in the bottom of the boat. Then more water. Then even more. I would not be exaggerating to say that three-quarters of the boat was full of water. I am no sailor, but that just looked wrong.

“Brian… your auto bailer is not working. We should head back so you can fix this. This does not feel safe,” I said, calmly ;)

But Brian was too distracted to hear me because he was busy fixing some line connected to another line that was probably attached to another line. Regardless, he did not heed my concern. Moments later, a big gust of wind caused the boat to heel and—try as we might—the boat capsized. It happened so fast.

I was hanging onto the boat for dear life when I heard Brian say, as calmly as if he were asking me to pass the salt, “Get in the water.”

So, I got in the water. But then the sleeve of my SPF coverup got caught on some boat thingy and I couldn’t break away. After some frantic yanking (goodbye sleeve), I finally swam out of the way of the sail that was now sinking beneath us. Meanwhile, Brian climbed back on the boat, threw his whole weight on the centerboard, and—just like that—righted the boat.

There was no way I was getting back in that boat. Nope. Not happening. So I announced I would swim back. It was only 400 meters, but let me tell you, I felt like Diana Nyad (watch the movie Nyad) braving the waves, fatigue, and sharks. Okay, there were no sharks, but it was wavy. And swimming with a life jacket is not exactly graceful.

Meanwhile, Brian sailed toward the cottage. And I thought, “Oh, good. He’s going to drop off the sailboat, get the motorboat, and come rescue me.” But alas, he caught a beautiful breeze and—like a man on vacation with no worries at all—sailed in the opposite direction.

So there I was, doing the backstroke toward shore, thinking: Where is God in all this?

And here’s where I landed: God is the life jacket.

That bright yellow, slightly awkward, not-so-stylish jacket was the only reason I could laugh about this adventure instead of panic. I didn’t have to be a strong swimmer. I didn’t have to keep myself afloat by sheer willpower. The life jacket carried me—through the waves, through the exhaustion, through the ridiculousness of being abandoned (lovingly, of course) by my husband who had sailed off into the sunset.

In the same way, Jesus is the One who keeps us afloat when life capsizes. He doesn’t always stop the wind from blowing or the waves from crashing. Sometimes the auto bailer fails, the boat tips, and we find ourselves flailing. But He is the One who says, “Put me on. Trust me. I’ll carry you.”

Life jackets don’t look glamorous. They’re bulky, awkward, and they mess up your tan. But they save your life. And Jesus—our ultimate Life Jacket—saves us not just for the swim back to shore, but for eternity.

So maybe next time the winds rise and you feel like you’re going under, remember: you’re not. Because He’s got you.