URNotAlone

My Ship's Run Aground

October 4th, 2010 8:17 pm MDT

A couple of years ago I was walking along a beach on Lake Michigan to get a picture of the Big Sable Point lighthouse.

As I walked along, I came upon a sign indicating the location of a ship that had run aground there many years before. I could barely see the remains of the once majestic schooner in the sand of the beach.

Today I thought about that ship and how it symbolizes my life of late. You see, this week a ship went aground. This ship launched on its voyage in April of 1973. It carried two people. One dressed in a long white gown and the other in a brown tuxedo. Both had dreams for the future. Both had faith in God and in each other. As the mighty ship left port, everyone cheered and wished them well on their journey together.

The ship was a good ship, strong and majestic, filled with love and hope. The wind filled her sails and carried her forward. Where too? Forward on to the adventure of life, a life together. Children were born. The couple worked hard and prospered. Friends and family surrounded them. They took on ministries in their church.

The ship weathered many a storm. The children who step on your feet when young, step on your heart when old. Financial setbacks, illnesses, partial loss of eyesight, death of grandparents, death of a parent and even the death of a child. But weather the storms it did. It seemed that love could conquer all.

But one day the wind became contrary. And in the dark of night, under this ill wind, the mighty ship ran aground. The dreams of the two travelers lay shattered on the rocks. Can the ship be saved? Only time will tell. But though their dreams may be shattered, and faith in each other wanes, the faith that produces hope is still sure.

Someday there will be an ending to this story. But that ending cannot be written now. Will the ship be re-floated? Can some of the dreams be salvaged? Can love indeed conquer all? Or, will the ship remain on the beach forever for someone to gaze upon in wonder and sadness a hundred years from now?