Authors Squire Rushnell and Louise DuArt coined the word “Godwink” to describe the way the Lord works in mysterious ways, exemplified by this story for Easter Sunday. As they told Fox News Digital, “What mysterious force in the universe causes us to help someone in need — only to discover that we are the ones being led to life changes?”
In New Orleans for Easter a few years ago, shop windows just recently decorated with sequined outfits, colorful boas and feathered headdresses for Mardi Gras were now trimmed in baskets of pink and green, chocolate bunnies and Lily of the Valley.
Gerry Ponson, together with his then-girlfriend Shannon, strolled arm in arm through the French Quarter, laughing and stealing affectionate glances.
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Ponson balanced an air of boyish curiosity with the commanding presence of a sea captain who could turn on a dime to bark orders at his crew. Meanwhile, the nurse in Shannon showed.
She’d learned to tuck her patience into a delightful carefree spirit. What didn’t show was her worry — that if she pushed her rugged beau too close to marriage, he might bolt.
Fortunately, Gerry’s younger sister, Penny Ponson, had become Shannon’s best ally. The women shared a strong faith, and during heart-to-heart talks, they’d agreed he would benefit from believing in “someone up there” bigger than himself.
Penny told Shannon about a recent time she’d mentioned the subject of faith with her brother.
“I told him, ‘Even if you reject Him, God loves you, and you can’t do a thing about it!’”
“What did he say to that?” Shannon asked.
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“Get out of the house!”
They both laughed.
During that spring holiday period, Ponson had a tradition. Every year, he took his older friend, Mac, along with Mac’s championship golden retriever, Booga, duck hunting across the bay from New Orleans. This year, Mac had been hurting — he’d lost his wife of 45 years.
As was their norm, the trio set out in Ponson’s 17-foot boat at 4:30 a.m. Booga took his post, standing at the bow while Gerry wrapped Mac in a heavy blanket and a wool watch cap. The temperature hovered in the 30s.
For the first half-hour, Ponson felt excitement about the venture. Then, noticing changes in the wind and the rocking of the boat, an uneasiness crept over the veteran seaman.
He always checked the weather — second nature for a fisherman. But the wind, rising quickly, brought higher waves that slammed the small boat with growing force.
Ponson had heard the lore of fast-developing storms in the northern Gulf — systems that escaped the notice of meteorologists — before exploding into near-gale winds, towering waves and rare but deadly storms.
Within moments, icy water began crashing over the gunwale, causing the boat to flip like a toy — and dumping the three occupants into the dark, shockingly cold water.
Ponson grabbed his friend by the latter man’s life jacket, shouting, “Keep moving your arms and feet!” He knew his older friend could quickly suffer from hypothermia.
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Something bumped his arm — it was the boat’s 10-foot push pole. He seized it, driving it downward into the churning water. When it struck bottom, Ponson was thankful — at least they’d have something to hang onto.
“Hold on, Mac,” said Ponson over the wind. “There’ll be a boat coming down the channel, I’m sure of it.”
Booga paddled over, panting. For awhile, Ponson held him up by his collar.
Over the next hour, as the waves battered the three of them in total darkness, Ponson fought to keep everyone alive — holding Mac upright for several minutes, then giving Booga a rest.
“I’m cold, Gerry,” Mac said in a weak voice.
Ponson felt helpless and frustrated. Finally, he made the hardest decision he could remember.
“I can’t save you both, Mac,” he said sympathetically. “I’ve got to let Booga go.”
He shooed the dog toward shore, knowing the chances of survival were nearly impossible in this weather.
“Hold on, Mac. It’ll be light soon,” he said. “Somebody’ll come.”
But an hour passed without another boat in sight. Moreover, believing in unseen things or miracles had never been Ponson’s strong suit.
His thoughts drifted to Shannon. She was a believer — but she gave him his space.
Another half hour crawled by. The sky slowly began to turn gray, and the waves began to ease. Yet a mist had surrounded them.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” Mac croaked.
For the first time, Gerry remembered what Penny had said: “God loves you, and you can’t do a thing about it!”
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He tilted his face toward the empty sky. “If you’re there — please send us a boat,” he whispered. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Please, give me a second chance.”
Less than a minute later, something moved in the fog. He squinted. A hole in the mist seemed to open.
Suddenly he saw the mast of a boat. He ripped off his shirt and waved it wildly.
“Mac! It’s a boat! They see us!”
A smaller boat soon ferried them to a larger vessel. As Ponson climbed the rope ladder, he noticed something that stopped him cold.
The name painted on the hull of the boat was “Second Chance.”
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Soon there was a churning sound overhead. He felt grateful as he watched his older friend lifted by a medivac helicopter, to be rushed to a hospital.
A short while later, the Second Chance boat pulled up to the dock in New Orleans — where another surprise awaited.
Dancing in circles on the pier was Booga — alive.
Still, the best surprise was yet to come.
Standing quietly on the dock, tears on her face, was Shannon.
The couple embraced tightly. Ponson knew exactly what he was going to say.
It had come to mind the moment he saw the name of that boat, right after he’d asked for a “second chance.”
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“God wants me to say this. Will you marry me?”
Shannon’s face filled with joy, “Yes.”
“One condition,” he added breathlessly. “Let’s do it right away. Will you marry me on Easter Sunday?”
Tears filled her eyes. “Yes and yes.”
Days later at a New Orleans wedding chapel — with Mac, in a wheelchair, as best man — and Booga serving as “best dog” — the couple said their vows and began a brand-new chapter in their lives.
Within weeks, Ponson augmented his tasks as a fishing boat captain with a part-time job at Celebration Church in New Orleans.
To this day, as a street preacher, he shares his testimony.
This story by SQuire Rushnell and Louise DuArt is published by special permission. Copyright ©SQuire Rushnell and Louise DuArt. Anyone can learn more about the Godwinks projects at www.godwinks.com. The Ponsons’ story was first published in the book “When God Winks at You” by SQuire Rushnell and Louise DuArt Rushnell.
