Life as a boat: Do you feel seaworthy?

So, in some ways, it's been a tough year for me. The purpose of this post is not to catalogue why, rather it is more to document some thoughts I've been processing as a result.

But first, I'm going to post some more boat pictures, because, well, that is what I do. Take a look at these before and after shots.

THEN

When we moved here more than 2 1/2 years ago, this boat was one of the more aesthetically -pleasing little boats anchored in our neighborhood along the ria (my first boats post and an explanation of the ria can be found here). For good reason it was one of my favorite subjects to photograph in those early days of exploration.

NOW

Clearly, time has not been too good for this poor boat. Surely if one word could describe its existence for the last 2 1/2 years that word would be 'neglect.'

You can see that the boat was once brightly painted, but now it's defining color is the mucky brown-green that you see. Parts of the boat are missing and have simply washed away. Clearly, the poor little guy is not seaworthy anymore. The constant rhythm of tides coming in and out has been harsh.

So what does this have to do with having a hard year? During a recent conference I sat in on a 1-hour session on 'Soul Care.' My main purpose in doing so was to grow as a team leader, but by the end of the hour I was left asking myself if I was at least a little emotionally exhausted. That conference was a month ago, and I finally had the time today to sit down and process through that hour of my life. What came out in my journal was a jumble of questions, images, and ideas. And it came out a little like this.

At times life seems like it is a rickety boat, packed so full of people and goods that it's hardly afloat. There are places the water leaks in. In other places waves that are not even all that big splash over the sides. The boat may have a destination, but it doesn't move all that fast, or all that well. It is difficult to turn, and at the same time hard to keep on a straight course. The wind and the waves continually work against it. On good days, the sun is a welcome blessing. On others it feels like a hardship that can't be escaped. We keep all of our energy and attention focused on keeping the boat afloat and on course. We bail water constantly and we're always struggling to keep it moving in the right direction.

Kinda dark, isn't it? Perhaps a little harsh? Where's the joy? Where's the hope? Where's the redemption? The happy ending? I'm a Christian after all - where's the victorious living in that?

My whole life I've been taught, if not told, (and I think I still believe this to a point) that if we stop worrying so much about keeping the boat afloat and moving in the right direction, and seek more of Jesus - if we strengthen our relationship and connection with him - that the other stuff takes care of itself. Or it magically gets better. We are to be a joy-filled people, are we not? Maybe no pastors, sunday school teachers, or youth leaders ever directly said so, but isn't this what we more or less believe and propagate with unspoken messages in our churches? That the Christian life should be a struggle-free life because Jesus is now the captain of our ship.

The thing is, and I think most of us know this in our heads, Jesus never promised easy living. In fact I'm pretty sure he generally predicts more hard times than good ones for his followers - at least for our time here on earth. I'm reminded of the image of Jesus as the odd lifeguard - the one who swims out to save the drowning girl, but instead drowns with her, comes back to life three days later, and walks of the beach saying everything is fine while the girl remains dead. It's a strange image, but his plan seems to be not the way most of us would use divine power. What's he all about? Why doesn't his plan always make sense to us?

I think we really like the idea that Jesus is going to fix the boat - plug the holes, give it a fresh bit of paint, make it bigger, more comfortable, and then steer us to safety. Most of us realize we need help, and wouldn't it be great if Jesus could fix everything just like that! I'm not downplaying the power of life-change that Jesus and the Holy Spirit can work in a person. It can and should be dramatic at times. But the reality is someday each one of our boats is going to sink. It might be overwhelmed by the waves, it might be dashed against the rocks, it might simply slip quietly beneath the surface. Put simply, we are all going to die. Many or most of us will feel overcome by life - at least once.

The other reality here is that Jesus mostly promises to be with us in our suffering, not to remove it. I suspect that we're slower to teach and talk about suffering than we ought to be in our churches and communities of faith. Sure, we're not bad about talking about the suffering of others - the further removed we are from those who are suffering the easier it is to talk about. But to talk about our suffering - mine, yours - that's pretty intimate, and it doesn't feel very victorious. But I'm becoming increasingly convinced that we need to get better at this both individually and collectively. Dramatic life-change is real, and we need to be asking for it, talking about it with each other, and telling others about it. But it's not the only thing. The struggle of life in our fallen world is also real. We all experience it - even Christians. And the fact that Jesus is right there with us through the dark or hard times is just as much a miracle as the dramatically changed life, and that too is worthy of our sermons, prayers, and conversations.

Both the world and Jesus (see: Jesus, thoughts on pharisees) have little use for a people who pretend to have it all together because they worship the right way or have the right religion. What Jesus and the world are both looking for are real people, genuine in their witness and faith to who Jesus is, and to the difference he makes in our lives - including his presence during the times we feel lost at sea.

So, how seaworthy do you feel right now?