Chapter 5

“Have you ever lost hope?”

We haven’t spoken much for the last several days, both of us lost in our own thoughts.  His question surprises me.  And once again, my answer is difficult to explain.

The truth is, my most disheartening experience had not been a storm.  It wasn’t even the long-term insecurity caused by the loss of my possessions.  But it was something that turned out to be much worse

— — —

It was late afternoon.  I hadn’t eaten anything for several days and the rainwater collected in the bottom of the boat was nearly gone.  

I was lying with my arms folded over my face for some protection from the sun, when I noticed the sound of crashing waves.  Looking around, I saw a large wooden ship sailing in my direction.

A member of the crew had already spotted me and alerted the captain to my presence. And for a moment I thought that I was being saved.  But then the captain had merely leaned over the railing, shouting advice as the ship hurried past.

The crew was on a very important journey that wouldn’t allow for them to stop and help anyone.  If they had been in need of another rower they could have possibly made an exception, but from a glance the captain decided I wasn’t well-suited for that work anyway.  Several recommendations were offered, none of which made any sense in my circumstances.

And then they sped past, my boat nearly capsizing in their wake.  A crew member had tossed a barrel overboard.  It contained food, fresh water, and a hat which I very much appreciated.   Viewing it objectively, the encounter had provided for some of my very pressing needs. 

But I did not view it objectively.

The experience reawakened the terrible doubts.  So many people on land had disagreed with every part of what I was doing: the journey and my ability to undertake it.  In those early days, I had desperately longed for someone to understand.  And here, finally, when I was in the presence of other people who had taken to the water, they decided I wasn’t worth their time.  

I might have managed to weather the rejection, if it hadn’t been for the fact that these longed-for companions also heaped on criticism.  According to the captain, I hadn’t prepared well or worked hard enough.  I needed to get some oars and a bigger boat and to start paddling myself toward a destination.  

It was impractical and useless advice since I was drifting on the open sea, with no idea where I was heading and very little chance of happening upon a bigger boat or a set of oars.

As the days passed, despair began to settle into my soul.  I went through the motions of eating and drinking without enjoying either activity.  I would sit and stare for hours out over the water, completely blind to the life around me. 

I’m not sure what would have happened to me if I hadn’t spotted him drifting along, sprawled across that tiny raft.  Suddenly, I realize how much his company has meant to me over the past few days.

Reflection Questions:

What criticism or wounds are you carrying from your past?

What would it look like to release these burdens and move on?