RainbowShip

Tides of Change, Shoals of Commitment

For some time I have been aware that change in my life was coming. While I believe that I have been pursuing what God put me on this Earth to do, I knew that as written in Ecclesiastes, there is a time and a season for every purpose under Heaven.

I know in my bones, the sun is setting on this season in my life.

Yet also I have long held a core belief that my life should be lived on my terms, not terms dictated by others. Living by those terms means taking action and responsibility. Commitments, relationships, expectations develop. Therein lies a natural dilemma.

What to do when the tides of change threaten to dash me against the shoals of commitment?

For weeks now, perhaps months, my ship has drifted. I do what I must to stay afloat, but fail to chart a course decisively. Questions plague me as I gaze toward the gray horizon, as I lie down and as I wake: How will I navigate? Will I founder on the rocks approaching beneath the water’s surface? Who will I leave behind on the shores, disappointed, angry, or in need? Yet, these worries are the sure way toward Death.

My ally, my love, my partner in all endeavors, has lost her eye for the compass and the sextant. She cannot help me in turning the craft about, in plotting by the map and according to the signs in the sky. We kiss away tears of our children, break bread in the galley, partake of love in the night as the moon dances atop the points of restless waves.

Yet for whatever reason, God has left this task to me, and me alone. This in itself is a sign, a test of anchor, of the sinews of my soul straining against the depths.

But chart a course, and set sail I must. My family are on board, trusting my hand is upon the rudder. The tide rolls. Danger lies in drifting.

Missions and dreams unfulfilled, vistas unseen, await.

Charting a course takes quiet hours in observation topside, in peaceful candlelight of the bowels of my quarters. Uninterrupted by the daily catch, the toil and bustle of the scrubbing and the rigging.

Perhaps today I can only take the first steps: Sounding the depths beneath me, gauging the distance to dangerous water, and selecting a new shore for which to set out. Without these, a new course cannot be charted. My soul cries out this prayer,

Heavenly Father, still the waters again with your mighty hand,
Calm the swells and the winds in my heart,
That I may envision a new land upon which to alight.
A promised land upon which your faithful servants will plant our feet,
To tame, to cultivate, to adventure, to lie beneath a verdant canopy upon velvet fronds
Squinting through cracks of sunlight falling gold and warm, a reflection
Of your glory as we rest in the shadow of your wings.

Amen and Amen.

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