The sea

I am born of the sea. In the innards of a swaying passenger liner, my ancestors imagined a new life for themselves, and now I am living it. I am descended from these, who took to the ocean to find new opportunity in a faraway land. And yet, what do I know of the sea which brought them here?

What do I know of the sea, which ebbs and flows with the changing of the moon?

What do I know of the sea, which churns in fury until all but the strongest are lost?

What do I know of the sea, which hides the secrets of time under miles of blackness?

What do I know of the sea, which jovially propels surfers in harmony with the waves?

What do I know of the sea, which orders the climates of entire regions?

What do I know of the sea, which can be sailed from port to port with a sail and a dream?

What do I know of the sea, which sends the rain across the continent and gives life to the land?

I know nothing of this sea. I was born of water, and it continues to give me life, but I know it not.

And what do I know of God? I was born of the water and the Spirit, and although I find great pleasure in following Christ, do I know Him?

Sometimes, I must ask myself what I am doing here before I can do it. I ask these questions today. This walk cannot decay to monotony, because we are a seafaring people.

We serve the One who, with a word, subdued the wind and the waves, who napped through a storm that threatened experienced fishermen into praying for their lives.

We serve the One who walked on water, not for magic's sake, but to show himself to his friends.

We serve the One who pulled a coin from a fish's mouth, who filled nets to overflowing and who rose from the dead, only to eat more fish.

Despite the Messiah's waterborne mastery, I have heard the Hebrews were terrified of the sea, and so are we. We do not wish to raise sail, because we do not trust the Captain. I, for one, have been chiefest of these cowards.

But today, I see a breeze. I feel in my Spirit an opportunity to sail away from the ordinary.

The truth is that when you are preparing to sail, you notice the details. "Red sky in the morning" the old rhyme goes, and as a sailor you're obsessed with the weather.

But can we see further and better than the Captain? We fear what we do not know, and we do not know Who we ought. But we must change.

For we a seafaring people, unfazed by wind and waves, our eyes fixed on the prize. This I know.