Sometimes when I write I have a clear inner motivation. Today, not so clear. Not a condensation-free window of perception. A little foggy. But, here goes.
Let’s consider a small vessel headed into a fog-shrouded harbour. The captain feels the awareness of insignificance, almost of unimportance. The seaward tide, forming a current beneath, tries to draw the little ship away from harbour. Away from home. Away from security. Somewhere nearby is a large rock, often called a headland, or head, marking the entrance to the harbour. On top of that cliff is a lighthouse, sending out its bright, clear light in a series of flashes. Beckoning to safety, security, and home.
Scattered at the base of the head are other rocks – not so big, but jagged and potentially very dangerous to marine travel. Even so, smaller craft must travel near this rock to avoid the big freighters in the deeper channels. Near, but not too near. The light on the large rock is a reference point. The small rocks can only mean danger. They lurk and can destroy any misguided vessel.
Tonight the lighthouse is hidden by the fog. The rays are indiscernible in the confusion of the swirling grey night.
The captain is in trouble. Allowing the craft to drift on the current is not a good option. Ocean currents are deceptive and could easily thrust the boat into the dangerous rocks. The fog conceals all landmarks. If one could tell the centre channel…maybe head that way. But that, too, is dangerous. Truly not an option. Fear grips the captain. He can’t see. He is disoriented. He panics. He cries out.
His dog, lying in the galley, hears his cry. The dog isn’t concerned. His brown eyes look up to his master in complete faith. They say, “We have always made it home.”
The master glances toward his faithful dog. He thinks, “Stupid Mutt. He has no clue of our peril. He doesn’t comprehend it. At all!” Another thought hits the captain. Perhaps that shaggy oversized mutt does indeed “get it”. He is relaxed. Not panicking. The man remembers his father’s words, “When in trouble, don’t lose your head.” He prays. He feels unworthy. His servitude to the God he prayed to is poor, at best. Nonetheless, he prays. He lifts his head skyward, just like the furry mutt had lifted his eyes to his master.
Suddenly, the captain hears the groan of a foghorn. A ship! – not too near; not too far. It must be a freighter in the deep channel. The horn sounded to the right. That means the lighthouse must be to the left. Then he sees it: the strobe of the light. He is overwhelmed with gratitude. He is still in peril, but he has two reference points. Now he can navigate! He steers the rudder so the boat heads into safe harbour.
Jeremiah in Lamentations 3 had fearful anxious moments. Lamentations 3:54-55 & 57 NIV 54. The waters closed over my head, and I thought I was about to perish. 55. I called on your name, Lord, from the depths of the pit. 57. You came near when I called you, and you said, “Do not fear.”
Sometimes our life becomes this way. We are disoriented. Confused. Disappointed. Sometimes we have been disobedient. Self-willed. We need to pray. The little rocks seem to reach out. They are not The Rock, the Rock with the light – Christ Jesus. They are similar in colour, but are jagged, and dangerous. They are not there to guide us to safety. They are placed by the evil forces of sin. They are discouragement, fear, mistrust, anger. They are rocks, and at times serve as momentary reference points. However, their purpose is to break and destroy. They represent half-truths.
Then there is the Rock, Christ Jesus; a true reference point. It stands alone. It holds high the gospel lighthouse, so that it is visible from far. It is an awesome rock. It can crush us. However, its purpose is to guide us. It towers far above the impish rock formations that can destroy our faith, and ruin our voyage.
Read Psalm 51:5-10 David the shepherd boy says it best.Joshua 1:9 “…Be…of good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
