by J.I. Co
I was the captain of this humble ship, and I named it, quite
fittingly, Life. I am the master of its course, for I am the captain after all.
The destination is unclear, yet the inner compass of me shouts that I had
somewhere to go. It was starkly dark everywhere around (perplexingly so!), and
I was confused: which way to go?
Several big ships, shining brightly with their lights, pass
by (somehow, frustratingly flattering, pretty much all named their ship after
mine); they seemed to see with clarity that which I seek, so I simply asked,
“Which way to go? Which way to that destination where all of our inner
compasses shout of?”
One pointed due north, and he called that final spot which
we seek the Land of Good Works. Yet another captain, a jolly fun fellow, simply
shouted that we were captains: damned be the fool who endlessly seeks a
destination from others, who better to dictate the destination of his ship than
the captain himself? A third captain drew close his ship to mine, and he
whispered a mantra of sorts and told of a land of milk and honey in the
promising Land of Religion. Then another ship came, and he threw a thick book
at my head to get my attention. He told me of his findings, of his experiments,
of his logic, of his reason, and he advised me with classy intonations that I
shouldn’t rely on such misguided sayings, but that I should use my captain’s
brain to think of such questions as my destination. Several more captains with
their big boats passed, and they told of different destinations.
But nothing shook me; nothing excited my inner compass.
It was starkly dark in the entire horizon, and I was
confused: which way to go?
Suddenly Light shines down, right at me, and darkness flees
the scene. I heard some man drowning in the sea, but the Light was so bright
that I had to look down to shield my eyes. Then, for the first time, I clearly
saw my ship. It was disgusting!
And anger shot out my mouth, and I blamed the sea for dirtying my precious
ship! But the Light shone brighter and brighter, and it became clearer and
clearer: the dirt was mine. And I grew ashamed. And I felt guilt for not
cleaning it. And I felt desperate, for I knew this filth on my ship could no
longer be cleaned.
But the Light grew brighter, and soon not only my ship was
seen, but the sea as well. I realized that I had kept the drowning man waiting,
so, curiously, I stepped forward to look to the sea. Then I saw that the whole
ocean was dark red.
And I saw the queerest sight: a queer captain, drowning in
the deep sea, yet queerly, not drowning. He had been shouting out to me, but
again, queerly not for help. Apparently, he has been shouting for a while now
to tell me something, and queerly, I have never truly heard the words he spoke
of. Queerer still, it occurred to me that I only truly heard his words when the
Light almost blinded me just a few moments ago. So I hoisted a rope, and threw
it to the queer captain. He waved no, thank you. Queerer and queerer indeed. He
saw my puzzled face, so he kindly drew back and started from the beginning of
his message.
“I once had a ship too, and it was quite the dirty ship. I
only realized this as you did when the Light suddenly shone on me. Queer thing,
queer thing. That filth won’t go away, I guarantee that. No, no. But I got my
ship clean! And I’ll tell you how right today!”
He had piqued my curiosity, and the queer conversation went
on. I soon learned many a thing. The queer captain told me he got his ship
clean by sinking his ship into this red sea. What! He must be joking. He told
me the red sea was called the Blood of Christ, and the drowning and not
drowning thing is one of the best parts of it all. Yes, I have pretty much
confirmed his insanity at this point.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “I still have my ship, but
now I have let its course be run by the currents of the Ocean. You know why I
choose to drown and not drown instead of boarding your ship? Because this is
where I wish to be. This is where my inner compass finally rested peacefully. I
wish you would understand. It has always been better to drown and not drown
with another companion.”
And it shook me, and it excited my inner compass.
Was he telling the truth? Was this where my inner compass
has been pointing all the while? Not north, south, east, or west, but to drown
and not drown in this vast red sea? Something sparked in me! My inner compass
started to wiggle faster and faster! And suddenly it became clear. Suddenly it
all made sense. Yes, what else could it have been? How could I have stayed so
blind all this time? And I realized that without the Light, it would have been
impossible for any captain to know.
So I sunk my ship. As I continued puncturing the bottom of
my ship, the red ocean started seeping into my boat. I saw the most marvellous
thing: the red ocean started taking away those disgusting filth which filled my
ship. Slowly but surely, the dirt disappeared. I punctured and punctured my
ship named Life, and the red ocean rose to my knees. What feeling is this? I
was taken by surprise, but it felt good.
The queer captain smiled and laughed with the most genuine
laughter. Queer laughter, definitely, but more and more his queerness seemed
the most perfectly sensible thing in the world. He explained that as the red
ocean covered me, I will start to feel more and more of the strong current of
the ocean. He had a queer name for the current (for as he would continue
explaining excitedly throughout our drowning and not drowning lives, it was the
core thing which the Light showed him). He called the strong current the Love
of God.
The minute I heard him say this, the current grew so strong
that I was swept under it. I found myself drowning and not drowning. I was
drowning in this ocean called the Blood of Christ, and I am being swept under
by the strong current called the Love of God. Yet I was not drowning. On the
contrary, I found it to be the very thing I needed. The very thing my inner
compass had been shouting all along.
I was shook to my soul, and my inner compass rested
peacefully.
