Two engines.

I remember the day it arrived. Everyone in my family was assembled on the dock, and, when instructed by brother, the boat’s first captain, we boarded the pristine Boston Wailer for its maiden voyage into the Barnegat Bay. My ten year-old heart thought it the most exciting present ever and envied my brother more than was healthy.

It had one engine, went pretty fast, but I soon noticed others with two engines, some of which were twice the size of my brother’s one. My brother explained having two engines provided not only strength to manage swift currents and rough seas, but also helped if one engine broke.

I was reminded of that lesson while watching the news of a tanker lost at sea after running into hurricane Joaquin. Maybe the storm was too much, or its engine broke, but whatever the reason the ship and all its crew and cargo were lost.

After watching the news, I went to my morning twelve-step meeting where we spoke of the various storms of our lives, past and present, and how we are trying to make our way to the other side of such challenges daily. I was reminded not only of the tanker’s unsuccessful voyage, but also my brother’s lesson about two engines.

Storms are inevitable, but how we approach them can make all the difference. That’s true for tankers as well as people like you and me trying to make our way through this voyage called “life.” We can live trying to avoid storms, head arrogantly into them as if invincible, or travel somewhere between such extremes, but set sail we must. Remaining in the harbor is tempting, but it’s not what we we’re created for.

With storms come rough seas that toss and turn even the most grounded and secure. The lost tanker was loaded with cargo, and, I am sure, its weight hindered its ability to navigate the turbulent waters. In normal seas, carrying such a load would be acceptable, but in rough seas the less cargo the better.

The lesson from my brother taught me it's best to have more than one engine. You never know when storms will arrive, or when an engine will break. The strength of more than one engine can help master swift currents and destructive waves. Having more than one engine can make all the difference if one breaks.

I suppose that’s why people attend church, or come to meetings like the one I attend each morning. Learning about storms, hearing people’s experience, strength and hope from their travels can assist even the most experienced sailor. Sitting beside others, in a pew or metal chair, can be like having more than one engine. When one breaks, the other is there to help get us through the storm.