A little over a year ago, God started talking to me about boats. Big boats. The kind that need lots of sails and large crews and deep water to navigate on epic journeys. And to be honest, I got a little freaked out.
Now don’t get me wrong--I’m all about adventure and the “Dream Venti” movement. It’s just that, I’m a kayak kind of girl. I like having very personal control over where I’m going. I find a comfort in staying near the shoreline. I appreciate the ability to slip in and out situations unnoticed. I think there’s something kind of wonderful about being able to paddle out on a whim in the middle of the day and return back home when night starts to arrive--no real preparation required. Yet there’s something in my spirit that just knows--it’s time to prepare for the big boat.
Sometimes, I find myself asking the Lord if He knows about big boats. Does He understand that big boats take time to build? And lots of supplies? And extensive planning? Does He recall how complicated navigation is out in deep water? Did it ever occur to Him, per chance, that you don’t really embark on an epic journey for a free afternoon? Or that you don’t gather and train a sailing crew for a little jaunt over to the next island--that you won’t exactly be home by dinner? (And what about shipwrecks? Or pirates?) Are you tracking with me, Papa?
And still, every time I run through my interrogative monologue--He is so patient with me. He tells me that Noah learned, and that Jesus corrected the disciples for their small faith in the storm. He brings up Paul’s experience with shipwreck, and reminds me that His glory was exalted anyways.
Truthfully, my mind isn’t always calmed after these conversations with the Creator. There are days when I question my own intentions in praying for Ephesians 3v20-sized things in my life. Often, I try to ignore the call to sea altogether and busy myself with other tasks and small fantasies.
But by the Grace of the Love Himself, these words remain: Big boat, Beloved. Big boat.