Captain

I am a tall wooden ship. Sometimes moored in port.Immovable.Stable. Other times i am tossed in a heaving swell concerned  about running aground and maiming my keel on the hidden rock below.

“Who is the captain of this vessel?” I ask myself as i grope in the dark for the wheel and rigging; wondering in the tumult which way is up or which rope to pull.

My hearts desire is to captain my own destiny to chart my own course, to answer the questions of life that run deep and require wisdom for their answer. 

Alas! There is such a captain. One greater than I , who asked of Job ; “Where were you when I set the foundations of the earth?” But how does such a prideful soul as I relinquish his white-knuckled grip from the wheel and thwart his arms from flailing!

Mind yourself you foolish man and succumb to the one who grants grace. Whose mooring connects at the center of the universe and intersects with your soul.

Be not moved dear reader for his is like the lighthouse to the lost ship searching for its  home port and there finds rest.