Tying Ourselves to the Mast

The last two months my eyes were really opened to the fact that we are in a war. Life = a battle. I’ve heard multiple sermons on the fact that we are in the midst of a war. I understood that if you didn’t start running into trouble when engaging in kingdom service, then chances are, you’re not doing something right. I’ve heard people talk about the urgency of the Gospel and the command that Jesus gave us to make disciples, but I guess I hadn’t really connected all the dots until now that I would have to fiercely fight for my personal relationship with my Lord as well.

I have been particularly struck by a song I found on another friend’s blog awhile back. The song is called Ulysses and it’s by an artist named Josh Garrels. He refers to the story of The Odyssey and the Greek hero, Odysseus, sailing home to his wife in Ithaca through treacherous waters where there are evil sirens who lure men into the sea to die with their beautiful voices and seductive nature.

The lyrics read:

Trouble has beset my ways, and wicked winds have blown

Sirens call my name, they say they'll ease my pain, then break me on the stones

But true love is the burden that will carry me back home

Carry me with the, memories of the, beauty I have known….

He goes on to sing,

So tie me to the mast of this old ship and point me home

Before I lose the one I love, before my chance is gone

I want to hold, her in, my arms

Battle.Those sirens songs are pretty sweet… but experience tells me they’re only fun for awhile and then I end up shipwrecked, with water in my lungs.

These last two months my eyes were really opened to the battle we’re in. Life. I recently got to spend almost a month in Makeni as Kim and I did some monitoring and evaluation of the program. We really wanted to look at what is working and what could be improved. As we sat down with the first group of women trained as Community Health Evangelists, it was as if we were interacting with new women. The same women who shared that they rarely left the house out of shame now looked us in the eyes when they spoke and they carried themselves with dignity after understanding that they are an image-bearer of the creator of the universe.

While it was encouraging to see how much they had learned about health and sanitation, basic community development principles and Bible stories, the dignity was what shone from each of them. The courage to be bold in living when society says you’re insignificant seeped from them. Their audaciousness to hope for restoration challenged me. The Holy Spirit is stirring in these women as they’re being drawn to Him and the restoration He brings.

Today I found out one of these women, Fatu Earnest, had to have her leg amputated due to cancer. Battle.

Fatu contracted leprosy some years ago, and so her body is already worn down because of the disease, with missing digits and an altered face. Now she has one leg. A few months ago Fatu lost her 19-year-old daughter, and now she cares for extra grandchildren as well. Sometimes I don’t know how to reckon with her situation. Battle.

I "happened" upon Psalm 43 earlier this week and I feel like the Psalmist articulates the process of tying oneself to the mast and sails through the tempest, not succumbing to the destructiveness of life’s sirens. He cries:

“1 Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause

against an ungodly people,

from the deceitful and unjust man

deliver me!

2For you are the God in whom I take refuge;

why have you rejected me?

Why do I go about mourning

because of the oppression of the enemy?

3 Send out your light and your truth;

let them lead me;

let them bring me to your holy hill

and to your dwelling!

4Then I will go to the altar of God,

to God my exceeding joy,

and I will praise you with the lyre,

O God, my God.

5 Why are you cast down, O my soul,

and why are you in turmoil within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,

my salvation and my God..”

I try to bury this situation with Fatu somewhere in this Psalm. My sadness over her situation just as it seems she is drawing near to Him, does not change His character. He is still faithful.

I just picture the psalmist screaming at the top of his lungs, “Vindicate me God, and defend my cause!” And I picture God looking down on Him with pain in His eyes and loving reassurance as He says, (Isaiah 43:1-3) “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overtake you; when you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

The Psalmist is basically crying out, “let us tie ourselves to the mast and keep sailing on toward our true love.” Let us call a siren, a siren, and keep moving. Let us wrestle it out with our Savior until we get to the point of bowing down in worship, and confessing that we see only a piece of this enormous puzzle. Let us fall deeper in love with the one who waits patiently for us.

I pray that Fatu and I can one-day camp out in Psalm 43 together as sisters in Christ. I pray that as we continue on our individual journeys that we might be able to strap ourselves down to the mast, lift our cries to the One who hears them in the deep acknowledgement of pain, and make it on the long journey home. I pray we might not try to sugarcoat the situations that leave us with nothing but groans because words can’t even express the sadness. Let us ride the waves. And after we are done laying our cries before Him, I pray we might end in worship out of a deep reverence for who He is. I pray that Fatu and I might someday sit together in awe at the fact that the creator of the universe calls us by name and that He wants us to come to Him with our pain. I can’t wait for that day when the struggle is over, and I’m united with my one true love.