Tip of My Iceberg

John and I’ve never been people who’ve craved cruising.

My husband has issues with motion sickness. He had visions of being poised over the porcelain throne for hours on end. My issues had more to do with a wild imagination and the Titanic.

My brain defaults to gruesome special effects.

We had some generous-hearted friends who gifted us with a cruise with Family Life Ministry called Love Like You Mean It. An opportunity to spend days in the middle of a large body of water without a lot of media connection. Great input. Time to process. To just be together.

With 2,600 of our closest friends.

We gratefully accepted.

And I began to dream of cruise liners sinking like a rock.

That’s not been the case. It’s been a wonderful experience, exceeding expectations exponentially.

I did find it interesting that the first thing that happened once we boarded was they took us through a lifeboat drill.

Folks learned from the Titanic.

We were all assigned to muster stations. Places on the deck where the lifeboats are located, numbered clearly, with personnel to assist us in case of an emergency.

We were lined up, had our ship badges scanned. All of us were required to go to a particular set of lifeboats. They went through the drill of how to put the life vests on. Assured us of the sufficiency of provisions in each boat. Food, water and radios.

We weren’t going to be in the north Atlantic. We were cruising down the Mississippi, headed into the Gulf of Mexico. Out of New Orleans. There was an excellent chance that, if something horrible happened, no one would die of hypothermia. No icebergs.

After the drill, I stood at the railing as we slowly moved away from shore. We’d be back in days. Nobody seemed to think twice about the leaving. The adventure awaited.

We moved further into the middle of the Mississippi River. Tugboats on both sides. Staring intently into the murky water I wondered what fish below the surface might find me a tasty morsel should I happen to go over the side.

Weird brain.

There’ve been all kinds of precautions taken and preparations made to insure this would be as safe and enjoyable an experience as possible.

We’re well taken care of.

If I don’t believe it, I’m going to spend the whole cruise in fear. Apprehensive about every little shake and deviation in the ride. Fear will trump fun. It’ll steal any joy in the experience I may have.

Much like what happens in my walk with Jesus.

Walking this life with Jesus as my constant Companion gives me a sense of security and hope. In spite of the challenges life can throw at me.

If I question His power over the darkness of this world, His goodness at work in my life no matter what I’m going through, His sufficiency to be enough no matter what my circumstances, I’ll live in fear.

I’ll go through times of sorrow and grief. Loss and hard challenges. He’s not bothered by my questions, doubts or anger.

He’s great enough to be my Lifeboat.

And anyone else who wants to hitch a ride.