I am a ship builder

I am a ship builder. I have no background in ship building. No particular skills or talents that would make others who know me say, "Of course, I'm sure she'll build a wonderful ship." I am building a ship because I was commanded to. My tendencies to be impatient, a day dreamer, slow to work and then rushing to finish—these traits and many more have caused me to build rafts rather than ships. They float don’t they? And they’re a lot quicker to build. Get on the water faster, right? Well, so I thought. But my little rafts were not what the Lord told me to build. He said, ‘Build a ship.” My first raft sank. My next raft sank. My third raft sank. (Does the term ‘slow learner' come to mind?) Finally I thought, “Perhaps I should build a ship.” I acknowledge that it is only through the tender mercies of the Lord that I survived the foolishness of my own bad habits, pride, and stubbornness.

So at this late date in my life, I am finally a ship builder. I am aware that I don’t know how to build a ship that will safely carry me to the Promised Land. I only know how to build rafts that may look fine but don’t float for very long, especially in rough seas.

I am gathering materials, ore to make tools and lumber to split and somehow fashion into a ship. I don’t know how to do this, so I must rely entirely upon the Lord. What I’ve done in the past hasn’t worked. I have to let go of my pride and do it His way. I don't know what this ship will look like when I get done—but God does. When I finish one step of the process, I go to Him and ask Him to help me with the next step. Occasionally, I want to counsel the Lord – “Well, when I built my rafts I did it this way—what do you think?” If I am silent long enough and really listen, He guides me through the next step and the next and the next. And it is never how I built my rafts.

I am sunburned. I have blisters and scars and sore muscles from the work. But I know if I can keep asking, listening, and doing what the Lord tells me that one day I will have a magnificent ship.

He promised me. He never breaks a promise.

(I wrote this essay some time ago stuck it in my journal in between a couple other pages. It’s a lesson I keep relearning.)