sailing

Are you a cotter pin?

Posted on March 31, 2023March 31, 2023 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

In the body of Christ, all are important- even the seemingly small. Are you doubting your importance to Christ and His work? Don’t.

Isaiah 33:23a – “Your rigging hangs loose: The mast is not held secure, the sail is not spread“

I was reading this verse today and it reminded me of something that happened to me some years ago. We were liveaboard yachtsmen then and had sailed from Maine to the Bahamas. We were anchored a while in the Bahamas, enjoying the numerous islands, hopping from one to the other. We had made some friends and sailed with them, anchoring at night and socializing by day over scrabble and rum. On the day of the photo below, I and my husband were sailing with our chums on Sea of Abaco. It was a yacht race, and we were aboard their boat.

So me and the boat owner’s wife were sitting amidships enjoying the race, looking at the other boats, and chatting. After a few minutes, she said, “Let’s go below and get some water.” We moved to the galley and a second later we heard an enormous crash! The boat shook and rolled! We instantly thought we had run aground, even though the Sea was deep at that location. We scrambled up to the deck only to see that the mast had fallen down! It had crashed down on the spot where we had just been sitting!!

The other owner had fallen into the water and the sails and heavy ropes and rigging were ensnaring his legs, potentially dragging him under. The boat came to a dead stop in the water and we were simply in shock.

A dismasting is one of the most terrible things that can happen to a yachtsman on the water. Fortunately we were half a mile from nearly the only and the best boatbuilding and repair facility in the entire 700 mile chain of islands. The owner guy was a schmoozer and finagled parts from the States in no time and within a week they were on their way. As with any tragedy, we wanted to know why. What did the mast autopsy say?

The cotter pin was gone.

This is a cotter pin:

This is how a cotter pin is used:

A cotter pin is “a metal fastener with two tines that are bent during installation used to fasten metal together, like with a staple or rivet.” (Wikipedia)

A mast and its rigging system is complex, and it relies on the sum of its parts, plus tension, to work. “On a sailing vessel, a forestay, sometimes just called a stay, is a piece of standing rigging which keeps a mast from falling backwards. It is attached either at the very top of the mast, or in fractional rigs between about 1/8 and 1/4 from the top of the mast. The other end of the forestay is attached to the bow of the boat.”

And the cotter pin holds the forestay to the bow. With the cotter pin gone, the tension of the system was disrupted, and at just the right moment, the mast fell backwards.

The first thing you see on a sailing vessel is its mast and sail. It is a beautiful thing, billowing in the wind, doing important work to propel the boat. The next thing perhaps you see is the boat itself, its lines and its beauty. As Alan Jackson sang in “Boats to Build,” it has a “fair curve from a noble plan.”

The next thing you may notice is the stays and shrouds hearing them hum and sing in the wind. You hear the engine, you see the keel when heeling in a stiff breeze. You never notice the cotter pins.

Isaiah 33:23a – “Your rigging hangs loose: The mast is not held secure, the sail is not spread“

We Christians make up a body. Every body part has a function. If we’re serious about our walk with Jesus, we want to make a difference. We see great evangelists opening hearts to the Spirit and subsequent salvation. We see missionaries making great sacrifices. We listen to pastors preach as if they were on fire, and altars filled with weeping responders. We see teachers publishing book after book, with eager readers excitedly discussing new points of view.

We never notice the cotter pins. Some folks serve in quiet ways, unnoticed. In the background. But if the pin is gone, the mast falls down. It has its part in the system, and every body part is important to Jesus, the Head of the Body. If you have been feeling sad, like you’re insignificant, like you don’t make a difference, YOU DO.

1 Corinthians 12:18-31-

But now God has appointed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired. 19And if they were all one member, where would the body be? 20But now there are many members, but one body. 21And the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you”; or again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” 22On the contrary, how much more is it that the members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary, 23and those members of the body which we think as less honorable, on these we bestow more abundant honor, and our less presentable members become much more presentable, 24whereas our more presentable members have no such need. But God has so composed the body, giving more abundant honor to that member which lacked, 25so that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. 26And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it.

27Now you are Christ’s body, and individually members of it. 28And God has appointed in the church, first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, administrations, various kinds of tongues. 29Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Are all workers of miracles? 30Do all have gifts of healings? Do all speak with tongues? Do all translate? 31But you earnestly desire the greater gifts.

And I will yet show you a more excellent way.

theology

Marooned with husband: A Sailing Story

Posted on November 12, 2020November 12, 2020 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

For two years in the 1990s I was a live-aboard yachtsman on a 37 foot sailboat. My husband and I sailed from Maine to the Bahamas and back, twice.

You might have heard about the Florida “snowbirds” who travel from some northern snowy state to Florida for the season to escape the cold. Liveaboard yachtsmen do that too, but aboard their own boats. We’d decided to give it a try, since my husband had sailing experience from owning a schooner in previous years. Solo sailing (“singlehanding” in the yachting lingo) is hard and only for the intrepid, but when I appeared on the scene he decided that the time was right and the two of us went off into the sunset.

Continue reading →

encouragement, theology

The First Forced Isolation & Cabin Fever: A Sailing Story

Posted on March 17, 2020March 17, 2020 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

cabin verse

I’ve been writing a bit about my sailing adventures here on the blog. People seem to really like these anecdotes. The Lord in His sovereignty allowed me to be a liveaboard sailor with my husband for two years, sailing from Maine to the Bahamas and back. It was before I was saved. I was in my thirties.

I see now with 20/20 spiritual hindsight, there are many lessons I am applying that stem from that time. Those essays are linked below. Continue reading “The First Forced Isolation & Cabin Fever: A Sailing Story” →

encouragement, theology

Dock Queens: A Sailing Story

Posted on February 25, 2020February 26, 2020 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

I was a liveaboard sailor for a few years. We usually anchored out somewhere for free. If we had to get to shore for supplies, we’d take the dinghy and putt-putt in to land. We went to a dock rarely but sometimes you had to. You’d need to fill the water tank, or the fuel tank, or we were expecting a delivery of something from the marine store that the dinghy was too small to transport over the waves and marine traffic.

We enjoyed strolling the dock and seeing other boats. We liked observing the different tie-ups people employed, or learned different knots for our ropes. We liked the sway of the boats at dock or hearing the masts creak in the wind. Nautical sounds. Continue reading “Dock Queens: A Sailing Story” →

encouragement, theology

Drifting Away: A Sailing Story

Posted on February 21, 2020 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. (Hebrews 2:1).

The question was raised at my Bible Group, how does a Christian prevent developing a hardened heart? One wise older man said by staying in the Word.

The Word is the only antidote for developing poor habits, shrinking our biblical worldview, and drifting away. I agree.

The word drift away used in the Hebrews verse in Greek means-

properly, to float (flow) alongside, drifting past a destination because pushed along by current. /pararrhyéō (“drift away from”) only occurs in Heb 2:1 where it refers to going spiritually adrift – “sinning by slipping away” (from God’s anchor). 3901 /pararrhyéō (“gradually drift away”) means to “lapse” into spiritual defeat, describing how we slowly move away from our moorings in Christ.

Paul often used nautical allusions and marine metaphors. They click with me because for two years I lived aboard a sailboat and traveled up and down the eastern United States’ seaboard and over to the Bahamas and back. We usually sailed during the day, unless we were on an overnight passage out in the ocean. But if we traveled down the Intracoastal Waterway, we’d find a snug spot to anchor in at night and went to bed after the sun sank.

The anchor becomes all-important. The anchor holds you in place, prevents you from drifting and damaging other boats anchored or moored nearby, and keeps you afloat rather than crashing into the rocks or going aground.

We spent a lot of time tending the anchor. When we initially set it, we’d take time to ensure it was set correctly. Is the rode taut and not tangled? Are the flukes digging into the ground? Is there enough depth under us for when we swing with the tide or current?

Then we’d watch it a while. We took reference points ashore to compare with our position. One reference point isn’t really enough. Drift is deceptive and incremental. You could be drifting away and still seem like you’re lined up with the same reference point. So we’d take two references. Three references are better so you can triangulate.

During the night, we’d sleep lightly, listening carefully for any change in the pattern of the waves slapping the bow, or any other untoward noises that meant there was likely a problem.

We spent a lot of time tending the anchor.

Do I spend an equal amount of time tending the anchor of my spiritual life, the Word? Do I treat it carefully, thoughtfully? Do I employ reference points to ensure I’m not drifting? Reference points in our spiritual lives that help us against drifting away from the truth are: visiting our prayer closet, studying His word, corporate worship, small groups, discipling and being discipled, and so on. Are we in position, standing firm in the center line of that narrow way, not going to the right or the left? Are we vigilant, listening for any variation in pattern of our sanctification in life?

We spent much time tending the anchor because our lives depended on it. We should take an even greater amount of time tending the anchor of our spiritual life because our spiritual life depends on it. When Paul says we must pay closer attention, the word in Greek means exceedingly, abundantly, vehemently.

When man sails upon the waters, he is not in his element. It is a foreign environment. It’s an environment that’s hostile, with many things in it either actively or benignly trying to kill him. Just so, Christian man on earth is not in his element. There are many things in this environment actively or benignly trying to kill him. We should pay the closest attention so we do not drift away.

Stay anchored to the Word, in position, with lots of reference points and a growing biblical worldview.

blog china doll

encouragement, theology

Night Passages: A Sailing Story

Posted on February 20, 2020 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

We grope for the wall like the blind; we grope like those who have no eyes; we stumble at noon as in the twilight, among those in full vigor we are like dead men. (Isaiah 59:10).

I lived on a sailboat for two years. We made a journey from Maine to the Bahamas and back, twice. We mainly followed the Intracoastal Waterway, a series of connected rivers, bays, channels, and canals that allow marine traffic up and down the coast without having to sail the open sea. Though, we did make passages “outside” too.

Sometimes we made overnight passages on the outside. If we wanted to get to a place more quickly. or as quickly as one can in a sailboat that goes 5 mph lol, we’d hop outside and make a 24 or 48 hour continuous passage. This was a carefully considered decision, because we did not have self-steering nor did we have GPS. Night watches meant you stood in the cockpit, which was open to the elements, and with hands on the wheel for hours at a time, you steered, maintained course, and watched, peering into the gloomy dark. It was full hands-on.

Night passages are strange. You’re on the open ocean, but it’s busier than you’d think. You’re in a shipping lane, so often you’d see distant red or green navigation lights on another boat or a ship passing a mile or two away. There are whales below, who usually know not to breach up under the boat but you still hope they don’t. There could be a lost container that fell off a ship lurking just under the surface ready to sink you. This has actually happened to other mariners. A floating log or telephone pole ready to impale the boat and it goes down.

The ocean looks like a wide-open space but when you’re going along under sail at a full gallop over the bounding main into the dark, it’s disconcerting.

If you happen to be in a room you’re not familiar with and the lights go out, you grope your way around. You carefully place your feet, you wait for your eyes to adjust, you feel your way along the wall. You stagger and totter, unbalanced and unsure.

Do you stride confidently around in the dark? No, of course not.

But that is what the boat did, with us on it. And we never knew we were lost, blindly stumbling around this earth at the sufferance of our God who was angry with us every day. Our spiritual blindness was unknown to us and we strode around the earth as if we owned it, not even knowing we would fall into a pit.

The way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know over what they stumble. (Proverbs 4:19).

But if anyone walks at night, he will stumble, because he has no light. (John 11:10).

Yet,

If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world. (John 11:9).

How refreshing it was to spot the lighthouse! When we saw that bright beam slicing through the dark, we were relieved. We knew we were about to be safe, the light had come.

How much MORE am I now safe, now relieved, that I have the eternal Light. His Light is in me as the Holy Spirit, and around me as fellow believers, and before me as His statutes and ways. The Light is above me as my future destination in glory, and I will dwell in the Light forever.

The lost know (deep down) they are lost. The unsaved know (deep down) they are in the dark. The mysteries of the visible universe are present before them, as it was to me, yet we suppress that truth in unrighteousness. It’s heartbreaking to see the lost stride confidently around in their dark, the blind leading the blind, heading for a pit and ignoring our cries and pleas to do the one thing that will open their eyes:

Repent.

The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel. (Mark 1:15).

Then you once were blind, but now you see. I see the Light now, by His grace, and when my hand reaches out to grope my way, it is His hand that takes me, sustains me, guides me. I have HIS confidence, HIS light. In the darkness no more, my eternal life with Jesus rolls out before me as ocean billows, sparkling, luminous, radiant.

blog dark

creation, theology

Following the North Star: a Sailing Story

Posted on February 17, 2020 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

blog china doll

I lived on a sailboat for two years. We made passage from Maine to the Bahamas and back, twice. For much of the time along the eastern Seaboard, we traveled the Intracoastal Waterway, a series of connected rivers, bays, and sounds that allowed for passage inside the landform instead of the open ocean. Though, we also made overnight passages on the ‘outside’ too.

It was a fun and interesting experience, a different way of living. Vagabonds, unfettered from the workaday concerns and free to dwell neither here nor there. It also taught me much about the natural world, and who I was. I wasn’t saved during those years, and the experience of living in harmony directly IN nature opened my eyes to the fact that there was a God who created all this; the seas currents, lands, skies, and the stars.

The Bahamas is an island country. It is made up of over 700 islands, and likely many more uncounted, strung out from northwest to southeast in the Atlantic starting at mid-Florida and extending down to mid-Cuba. Cuba actually isn’t our nearest ocean neighbor, The Bahamas is. West End is only 44 nautical miles from Boca Raton. To get there by boat, you must cross the Gulf Stream, that mighty mama of ocean currents.

Well, we did, and we enjoyed the ‘blue water’ of the Bahamas for a season, hopping from island to island to sample Bahamian life to learn of their history, and just relax on a boat that looked like it was floating on air, the sea was so clear.

One particular passage stays in my memory. To go from New Providence Island, where Nassau is, to the Abacos, a larger island string just north of New Providence, you cross New Providence Channel (deep water) and head due north. The mariner must leave at dusk in order to make it to the entry into the island string at dawn. This is so you can cross the coral reef channel safely without the sun in one’s eyes. At dawn, the sun will be behind you and you can see the razor sharp coral that if you run over, will slice your boat and you’ll be in the drink before you know it. So, this meant a night passage. This was OK since most of it was over the deep Atlantic.

Having made some night passages before, we were prepared. We left the cozy anchorage at dusk, sliding out from the arm of land that protected us and turned our compass heading due north.

Annotation 2020-02-17 075402

Seeing the stars over the ocean twinkle and glitter at night is magical. We look up through our sails, through the spreaders. A spreader is a spar on a sailboat used to deflect the shrouds to allow them to better support the mast. Shrouds are the pieces of rigging that extend down from the spreader ends to the deck and help hold up the mast.

As the boat rolls along, we look up through the rigging to see the carpet above us, littered with diamonds, peeking in and out of the cloud cover, or starkly winking at us through clear skies. We notice one particular star, the North Star AKA Polaris. It is at the end of the handle of the constellation known as the Little Dipper. It’s a unique and important star.

The reason Polaris is so important is because the axis of Earth is pointed almost directly at it. During the course of the night, Polaris does not rise or set, but remains in very nearly the same spot above the northern horizon year-round while the other stars circle around it. Space.com

If we put our right spreader tip at the North Star we could maintain a north compass heading. It was fun to navigate by the stars instead of the compass set in the binnacle where the steering wheel was and the technology blinking at the nav table below. Doing this as we rolled along in the night sea allowed for some pretty majestic and pondering thoughts. Where did the stars come from? Why are there so many? Why doesn’t Polaris move? Do the stars know us? Are we just an insect moving along on the earth or the sea as the unfeeling and unknowing stars go their way in the sky, night after night? What a gulf between us!

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
4 what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?
(Psalm 8:3-4)

As an ignorant pagan, I was asking the same things that have been asked by others. See, even the ignorant pagan knows there is a God. (Romans 1:18-20). Everyone knows there is God, because God made it plain to us that He exists and that He made everything we see.

Barreling along on a tiny yacht in a big ocean, under an even bigger sky, the night air cooling my skin and the stars brightening by the moment, I looked up…and wondered. If there is a God, how can I know Him? Who am I?

Polaris doesn’t move. Polaris exists, stays motionless, and all the other stars swirl around it.

Jesus is our pole-star. He never changes, He remains enthroned, while all of creation bows to Him. All our motions, our travels, wanderings, meanderings, eventually bring us all to Him- saved or unsaved. How can I know God, I’d asked? Jesus descended to us. He made Himself known.

He died on the cross and was resurrected as the sacrifice God demanded for sin. I am eternally grateful I know Him and I will meet Him on God’s terms, as a saved sinner, and not on my own sinful terms, as a wandering yachtsman, curious about Him but living in sin and loving it. In that case, I would be destroyed, sent to hell for payment of those sins.

But little did I know on that night, wondering about the sky and Who made it, that I would someday be given grace to be forgiven and enfolded into His kingdom to forever circle around Him, the unchanging, eternal, unique star, the God-Man Jesus.

encouragement, theology

He is my hope and stay…what is a stay?

Posted on August 13, 2019 by elizabethprata

By Elizabeth Prata

In the song “The Solid Rock” we sing the lyric ‘He is my hope and stay’. Did you ever wonder what a stay is?

His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.

In Isaiah 10:20 in the KJV the word stay is used. It means, To rest; to rely; to confide in; to trust.

It’s good to remember that the Lord is our hope and stay. He is strong and we can rely upon Him and His promises.

When Edward Mote wrote the song in 1834, sailing was the only mode of travel across the sea. People were familiar with ships on rivers, lakes, and of course, the ocean. Steamships hadn’t come to the fore yet.

In Mote’s time, women’s whalebone undergarments were made with a bone lining of rigid ‘fingers’ called “stays”. Whale baleen isn’t really bone but is robust but flexible, and was cut into narrow strips, inserted into the lining of outer garments, creating whalebone bodices or ‘bodies’ that molded the torso into a tight and conical V-shape that was sought-after at the time. In the 17th century, these whalebone linings became distinct, separate understructures, known as stays. (info source)

What we have come to know as a corset (a term not used until the 18th century) was previously known as stays. It is not likely however, that a genteel man writing a hymn of praise to the Lord would intend a mental picture of a ladies undergarment for his metaphor.

So what is a stay, then?

As a result of the familiarity with ships, many people were acquainted with the terms of a ship. Mast, bow, port & starboard, etc were commonly known. A stay on a ship is a piece of rigging that holds up the mast. Rather, their downward pressure hold the mast in place. It’s critical that all the stays, do their job in harmony to perfection, every time.

Wikipedia defines stay

Stays are ropes, wires, or rods on sailing vessels that run fore-and-aft along the centerline from the masts to the hull, deck, bowsprit, or to other masts which serve to stabilize the masts. A stay is part of the standing rigging and is used to support the weight of a mast.

I lived on a sailboat for two years. We regularly inspected all the rigging, including the stay. If the mast falls down, you’re in serious trouble. The boat will roll, might even capsize. The mast, till attached to the rigging, is a mess and might trap your foot and you’d drown. The broken mast might punch a hole in the boat as it wildly pitched, having no balance. Lots of things.

I was on a friend’s boat in the Bahamas, sailboat racing, when his forestay came loose. His mast fell down he was pitched in the water amid the soggy huge sail and all the ropes and rigging. We had to get him on the boat fast before he got wrapped in it and pulled underwater. Luckily it was a calm day and we were providentially near the only port in the entire Bahamas that had a crane lift and mechanics and riggers to fix the mast. And all because one piece of rigging, the forestay, failed. The stay holds up the mast, or rather, holds the mast down with pressure.

I do not know what author Edward Mote had in mind when he wrote that line, but it’s comforting and lovely nonetheless.

Jesus IS my hope. He IS my stay. The original title to the song, was in the author’s Hymns of Praise, 1836, is No. 465, and entitled, “The immutable Basis of a Sinner’s hope”. Source info: John Julian, Dictionary of Hymnology (1907)

O Lord, let me remain in you, my hope and stay.

china doll

encouragement, Uncategorized

Buck the current

Posted on April 17, 2018April 17, 2018 by elizabethprata

For a while in my free-wheeling days, I lived on a sailboat with my husband. We sailed from Maine down to Florida, over to the Bahamas down as far as the Tropic of Cancer. Then we turned around and sailed back. We made this mini-circumnavigation twice, putting about 12,000 nautical miles under our keel. Our yacht was a 37′ Tayana with a full keel and 12 feet of beam. She was a study boat, and a pretty one, with a wooden mast and lapstrake style fiberglass and a wooden bowsprit.

Needless to say, we encountered all types of weather and all kinds of marine conditions. Storms, believe it or not, are not as hard to deal with as one might think. Boats are made to bob and yaw and pitch and really are in their element when it’s storming and you are underway.

The one that gets hard to deal with is current. But more on that in a moment.

One of our elders who delivered the confession time devotional in the worship service on Sunday mentioned his above ground pool. He said it is a small pool, and that you must circulate the water because it’s better for the water and better for the pool. What he does to circulate it, he said, is walk rapidly around the perimeter of the pool while in it. That gets the water going. Around and around he goes, the water as a force swirling. If you turn around, he said, you suddenly feel the force of the water against you. When you’re going with the current you don’t feel it, but turning around suddenly this wall of water pushes against you.

This got me thinking about ocean and river currents.

When I lived on the sailboat, we traveled down some of America’s mighty rivers, like the East River, Potomac, the Cape Fear River, or the Savannah River. The currents on these rivers are very strong. When traveling against the current, the current wants to push you off course, and can do so very easily unless you maintain constant extreme vigilance. The engine works hard, you have to hang onto the steering wheel pretty tightly to maintain course. If you lose the engine, you end up on the rocks. You anxiously keep looking at the time, waiting for the tide to turn so the current will ease up.

It’s so much easier sailing with the current. You cruise along, carried by the current in its course, enjoying the lack of turbulence.

The two years of sailing as a live-aboard cruiser are still reaping benefits in spiritual insights and life metaphors. I’d often wondered why the Lord would send me on such an amazing journey (now that I know the Lord). His providence is amazing. Because He ordains everything in a person’s life down to the last dust mote, there had to have been a reason He sent me down America’s coast in a boat. I didn’t know Him then, but I do now. And I know there is a reason. There may be many more I’m too dense to comprehend, but the spiritual lessons keep coming.

I’m not an agricultural person, so the sheep and the wheat and chaff and such don’t resonate with me. But the marine symbols do.

When the writer of Hebrews says cling to your salvation lest you drift away, I know.
When Jude says there are hidden reefs at your love feasts, I know.
When Paul says do not make a shipwreck of your faith, I know.

I hope you caught the life-lesson I’m about to reveal. The current is the world, it sweeps you along and you do not notice any turbulence…until you turn 180 degrees. When you turn (repent), suddenly the force of the current is quite noticeable. It pushes against you. The world wants to direct your course, and if you don’t have an engine, you’re headed for the rocks. The engine is the Spirit. You have to grip the wheel tightly so as to stay on course. The wheel is the Bible. You have to maintain constant vigilance or you will be pushed to where you don’t want to go.

Here’s the difference. As opposed to a mariner’s life, in Christian life- the tide never turns.

There is never, every a season of ease. There is never a time when you can safely coast along. There’s never a time when you don’t need to constantly be vigilant and check your course. As long as we’re in this body, we have to remain at the binnacle steering this ship of faith against the current of the world that always pushes against us.

When the time comes in each of our lives to let go and swim the River Jordan, we will emerge on the other side climbing up the bank victorious. Of course, it is not our victory. Jesus swam against the current of the world all His life and was never shunted off course, never drifted an iota into dark waters, not even when He was tempted by the devil. He kept His eye firmly on the lighthouse and the glory of God. He gained the victory because of His righteousness, and imputed it to us.

Buck the current. Stay vigilant. Have a firm grip (hold fast) to the steering wheel. We will eventually make it to safe shores and we will never have to slog through an angry tide again. All will be peace, calm waters and safe harbor.

discernment, Uncategorized

Pay closer attention, lest we drift away: A sailing story

Posted on January 22, 2018 by elizabethprata

Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. (Hebrews 2:1).

The question was raised at Bible Family Group last night, how does a Christian prevent developing a hardened heart? One wise older man said by staying in the Word.

The word is the only antidote for developing poor habits, shrinking our biblical worldview, and drifting away. I agree.

The word drift away used in the Hebrews verse in Greek means-

Paul often used nautical allusions and marine metaphors. Last night at Family Group I’d shared the experience from when I was living on the sailboat that relates to the verse. We usually sailed during the day, unless we were on an overnight passage out in the ocean. But if we traveled down the Intracoastal Waterway, we’d find a snug spot to anchor in at night and went to bed after the sun sank.

During the night, we’d sleep lightly, listening carefully for any change in the pattern of the waves slapping the bow, or any other untoward noises that meant there was likely a problem.

We spent a lot of time tending the anchor.

Stay anchored to the Word, in position, with lots of reference points and a growing biblical worldview 🙂

boat