Ever feel like giving up the ship?

I’m a pirate at heart.  No, I don’t have a parrot named Pete, nor am I searching for gold.  But I do take pride in the pirate life that I live and enjoy.  By that, I mean that I’m loosely attached to the cares and worries that others deem important.  I could care less about the number in my bank account but instead am strongly driven by the freeing sense of adventure I hold.  I’ve never been one to care or be concerned with money, climbing the ladder, or how many cars are in my driveway.  If they start and run, they will work for me.  I’m a simple man who doesn’t need much but the wind in my sails, space, and purpose.   Yes, purpose, that’s my greatest drive.  I tend to drift whichever way the wind blows in life.  I crave seeing what lies beyond the horizon.  In some ways, these tendencies help me on this spiritual journey I am currently sailing on with the Lord.  He is able to direct me easily because I go with the direction his wind takes me.  I admit I had some doubts and worries when He led me into writing, but he pointed my face to the wind, and I saw how good he was.  He didn’t have to convince me much.

But there can be hang-ups to the life out on the sea of life.  

We all have them.  We all have things in life that press us, shake us, try us, and challenge us.  Some are the same for all human beings.  Some are specific to our situation and walk of life.  I know that some of you have been following this blog because you have lost loved ones.  Some of you out there are people who I have met, precious souls, who have had unfortunate trauma in life.  Some of you are disabled.  Some are challenged with financial hardship.  Some are going through family issues.  Some are divorced.  Some have lost jobs.  Some are persecuted as your faith or stance on moral and ethical issues has made you a target.  These things are all hard.  

But whether we share stress and hardships or have a unique set of our own problems, one thing is for sure. . . we all have them.  

Everyone has problems.

Last week I was up to my ears in things I didn’t want to deal with.  Stress can do that.  It can find you and follow you even when you are trying to get away from it.  I have a feeling I’m not alone.  Those who are reading this know exactly what I mean.  Life hardships can hammer you.

So what do you do when your ship is sinking?

We quickly take things to the Lord in prayer.  We ask others to stand with us in seeking the Lord for direction and wisdom.  We read about the times in scripture that other people were in similar shoes (or sandals) and we glean from the sacred pages the things that they did, they learned, and what helped them.  We depend on the Lord.  We know the accounts of those warriors of faith.  They conquered kingdoms, slayed giants, watched city walls fall, been in the furnace of fire, walk through the sea on dry ground, and see the impossible happen.  We go to church.  We spend nights on our face in tears.  We plead to the Lord to help us.

There are times when this fixes things.

There are times when it seems it doesn’t.

Should I open my windows?  Should I take down the porthole curtains of my little pirate raft so that others can see in?  How far in should I let others come?  Will they believe it?  Has the hardships of what I know my life has faced match the sheets of sailing white triangles that everyone else knows me by?

Though my ship might be sailing smoothly, many nights I’ve cried myself to sleep.  There are moments when I’ve done everything right, said all the right things, had enough faith to move mountains, and was still forced to sit in the belly of my boat while the storm raged outside.  I couldn’t stop it.  The battle didn’t let up.  The bombs exploded, the lightning crashed, the smoke didn’t clear, and all I could do was hold my Bible like a teddy bear and fall to sleep with it pressed against my chest.

Morning comes.  The war still rages.

My first wife still passed away.  

I still cannot go kayaking with our boys because of my brain injury.

I still cannot remove the “thorns” in life like those that Paul pleaded with God to remove.

Some things remain.

When things cramp my style, stress can really get under my skin.  A pirate life might seem fun and free, but we all have hardships, don’t we?  When you are out on the water, living on a raft named Purpose or Calling, a boat I ride that other people might not understand, it is easy to let things shake you.  Stress, the demands of life, the things that we all face, it all tries to taunt and torment us.

I doubt I’m an exception.  Life can get busy.  Life can get crazy.  Sometimes, life throws monkey wrenches at us in a pace we can hardly handle. 

Will we let our ship sink?

Everybody needs a break now and then; I’m no exception.  You and I alike, we understand that the human mind and body needs a breather from time to time to keep things functioning well.  With jobs, family obligations, kid’s needs, school sport schedules, and the day-to-day details that need our attention, it is easy to feel a bit flustered with all there is to do.  Our lives can get busy.  I’m sure yours does as well.

I decided last week to finally step out of the ins and outs of life and put myself in a place where I could relax, regroup, and revive.  We needed a moment to catch our breath from the daily grind, and so I told my wife to get in the car, that we were going on a getaway, and that I’d tell her the surprise of where we were going after we left.  I planned it less than a day ahead.

She said, “ok.”

Off we went.

Well, we did have a great adventure.  We spent a few days at a Bed & Breakfast on South Bass Island in Ohio’s portion of Lake Erie.  It was wonderful.  We cut the ties with land and headed out by ferry.  We got to rekindle the spark inside that the hecticness of life was trying to choke out.  We got to spend quality time together.  With no car, no golf cart, and my inability to ride a bicycle, we just decided to walk everywhere we needed to go.  It was actually a blessing.  We talked and prayed while we went about the island.  We met wonderful people, ones of whom God himself must have brought into our meeting, ones in which God gave us an opportunity to share our testimony and what he is doing in our lives.  We enjoyed the company of these people, bonded with them, and when we had to go, they even bought us a jar of sea glass to remember them by.  They were blessed.  We were blessed.  They said it was so nice to bump into good people.

One of the most notable points of the trip was the little museum we went to.  A beautiful little building rests right under the towering Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry’s Monument, who led and fought in the Battle of Lake Erie during the War of 1812.  If you are a history buff, you definitely want to check it out.  Being a sentimental person, I was in awe that they actually still have pieces of the U.S. flag that was on his ship.  We moved around the exhibit, then tucked into a room where we watched a commentary on the battle.

Didn’t realize that the Lord could speak to us through what we watched.

On September 10, 1812, Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry was in a tight squeeze.  The opposing fleet had guns that could shoot twice as far as his.  Being out on the water, that's a big problem. He was given a crew who knew little about what they were doing with no experience.  The wind was not cooperating.  To make a long history lesson simple, he and his group of warships danced back and forth in the water waiting while the winds were against them.  It looked bleak.  When the winds finally shifted, he grabbed the opportunity and made a mad dash to get close enough to be able to shoot at his enemy.  The only problem?  His fleet got hung up.  Perry was the sole ship that sailed into range to fire at the opposing side.  He was more than a sitting duck. . . he was the only target.  His ship, his crew, and everything he knew was annihilated.

If the story ended there, it wouldn’t be much of a story.  Similar to your life and mine, if in the heat of the battle, when our ships are about to tank and drift to the watery grave of the lake bottom, we act as if all is lost. . . then most likely, it will be.

Get this.  

According to historians, Perry climbed up and took down the flag himself.  He and a few others got into a little escape boat and fled the ship.  That, in itself, is not very noteworthy.  But what he did afterwards was astounding.  Rowing a half-mile to the next largest warship, the Niagara, he hoisted the flag and went straight back into the heart of the battle.  He didn’t give up.  He didn’t sulk away like a coward.  When his ship was left to die as a splintered disaster, he simply adjusted.  Now positioned in another ship that floated, leading the entire fleet, he took the second best he had and lead his way into what would become a victory for the United States. More importantly, it would be a key negotiating element to the lasting peace between the U.S, Britain, and Canada.  We saw his flag outside the museum.  It was remarkable.  “Don’t Give Up The Ship.”  It flew in the breeze made of blue and white.

Too many times we face the exact same scenario.  We are the sitting duck in the midst of a watery grave.  I can’t say how many times in my life it seems that all odds were against me.  Quite possibly, you feel the same.  When all the battleship cannons are aimed at you, and it looks like the ship is sinking quickly, it is easy to just let the white flag of surrender fly.  But that is not what we are called to do.

1 Timothy 6:11-16 says it loud and clear.

But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. I charge you in the presence of God, who gives life to all things, and of Christ Jesus, who in his testimony before Pontius Pilate made the good confession, to keep the commandment unstained and free from reproach until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ, which he will display at the proper time—he who is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see. To him be honor and eternal dominion. Amen.

Yes, I’m writing this blog post for myself as well.  Yes, there are thousands of you out there who are in the same exact position.  What do we do?  Go down with the ship?  Turn ourselves in?  Let the world tell us that what we are fighting for is in vain?  

Or do we find another ship, head right back into the mix of things, and keep fighting the good fight?  

Get on another boat.  Hoist the colors.  Sound the alarm and lead your soul, your family, your neighborhood into the victory that Jesus is calling you to fight.  You, like myself, may be beaten beyond what you can even recognize yourself as.  You may have even had to leave your boat abandoned in the water.  

But don’t lose hope.

It might be incredibly hard right now.  You may be at a loss on every side.  But when Jesus returns, he will be looking for those who have fought this good fight.  When we see him appear, it will be just like the blue and white flag that proudly waived above us that day.  It will spark us inside.  All we have fought for will have been worth it.  No matter how hot the battle was, we will have grabbed ahold of eternal life and will be standing beside our Jesus. Victorious.

Eternal Life.

That, if nothing else, should give us courage.

Don’t give up just yet, my friend.  Keep fighting.  Take courage that there is another out there who is hurt and bleeding just like you are.  Dig in.  Grab your Bible like a teddy bear.  Rest in his care.  Look up to see the flag.  “Don’t give up the ship.” Fight that fight with all you have. It will all be worth it.

You got this.

By Chuck Carr