Chapter 6

“Well, you didn’t miss much.  It’s far better in this boat than it ever was on that one.”

I’m surprised by the pain in his voice, and as he continues it takes me a couple of minutes to understand what he’s saying.

“I guess at first it was exciting.  We could travel so fast, and it felt rewarding to be a part of the group that made it possible.  But we never actually got anywhere because we were continually changing directions.  It started to feel more like drudgery than adventure.  The air was stifling below decks, and the only view we ever had was through the portholes.  

I honestly stayed longer than I wanted to.  My understanding was that we were allowed to leave at any time.  But whenever we neared a destination, the captain would always change directions.

I gave up my home and family and job and comfort to join that crew.  But it was nothing like what I expected.  I have never felt less alive.

Finally, one day after yet another change in course, I asked for permission to disembark at the next possible opportunity.  I was quickly escorted to the decks and thrown overboard without a backward glance from anyone.  The survival raft was thrown out after me.”

— — —

Once he got started, the whole story poured out.  It turns out that we had both been deeply wounded by different versions of the same experience.  But the beautiful thing was that we were able to find healing in the telling of our stories.  

It exposed the lies.  And eased the pain.  

— — —

Later, as we passed the wreckage, I was surprised to feel genuine compassion for them.

There was nothing we could do.  The ship had foundered in the shallows of a small island and broken apart in the surf. From a distance, we could see the survivors gathered on the beach.

Reflection Questions:

What lies have you internalized about yourself?

What would it look like to trust God’s truth?