Saved from the storm

Thunder boomed with deafening force. Lightning split the sky, coming in quick flashes that blinded the human eye in the darkest of blackness encompassing the land.

Night had fallen and with it came a terrible darkness the likes of which the lighthouse operator had never seen. He climbed the stairs to the top of the lighthouse, his lantern barely piercing the blackness of this evil night.

Rain battered the lighthouse while howling wind tore at the sides. Had the building not been made of rock it would have tore apart under the onslaught. Thunder came so quickly that it never really let up. The very ground shook with the fierceness of it. Through the darkness the angry sea could be heard lashing the rocks it crashed upon.

Nothing existed in this fierce night save for the storm and the roaring sea.

The lighthouse keeper reached the top of the tower and looked and the blinding light. It was there, a beacon to all, calling out to all, crying 'here I am', come to me, do not be dashed upon the rocks.

But the storm was strong. The pull of the sea and the dark of night tugging hard on the boats tossed upon the waves.

The lighthouse keeper sighed. He could just make out the hazy shadows of the ships, see them tossing too and fro in the distance. Somewhere out there, lost in the sea of the evil storm, were many ships.

The lure of the sea and the darkness was too much for the ships, they could not pull themselves from the deepest darkness, enticed as they were by the waves and the sea. The lighthouse keeper beckoned to them but they would not come in. He blew a horn and still they would not come.

With a shake of his head the lighthouse keeper trudged back down the stairs and out into the storm. Hoisting his small lantern he made his way to the dock, nearly swallowed by the angry waves, and stepped into his great ship.

There was nothing to be done but to go out and rescue the boats at sea and their wayward ships captains. Each boat was small, a one man vessel.

His boat heaving on the great sea, the lighthouse keeper braved the evil night and motored out into the storm. In the distance he could see three boats, all of them within reach, none of them coming in on their own.

He let his ship bob in the storm, tossing too and fro, while he studied those ships. They were all there, all within reach. Ships that he had sent out signals too, giving them light to follow, beckoning to them, and they had not come. He could save all the ships, going to them, taking them by the bow lines and leading them to safety. If he did that though everyone would simply say that no one need ever heed the calling of the lighthouse keeper for he would come and save you.

No.

He mustn't save them all. He must show the ships and all the people in all the lands that the lighthouse keeper was not to be trifled with. His kindness would not be always extended. He must show them that his kindness comes from his own hand and not from their foolishness.

He must show his great power over their foolishness. If he didn't they would never heed his call. Why should they? If he always saved them from the storm, from the evil of the darkness, sucking them in and blinding them to their need to be saved, then they would never appreciate his saving any of them.

The boat closest to him cracked, a board broke loose and flew through the air, carried into the darkness by the great wind heaving the waves liken angry hands.

He saw the boats distress but also saw the ships captain waving him away, laughing at the beacon of light coming from the lighthouse.

He considered saving that boat but motored on. The ships captain did not want him. The next boat was the same. This captain danced on the deck, laughing and having a grand time, glorying in the storms fury. A glance to the side showed the lighthouse keeper the third boat, that captain napping on deck.

There was no begging for help from any of the vessels on the sea. No crying out of the ships captains. They were happy in their situations. Loving the sea and the storm. There was no threat here, not for them, no need to be saved. Their boats were breaking apart beneath them but they could not see it, their ears did not hear the groans and cracks of the distressed ships they were happily resting upon.

The lighthouse keeper scanned the raging sea. The waves that crashed upon the vessels tossing to and fro on its surface were not the welcoming hands of love and happiness the captains imagined them to be. The dark of night was not a calm, peaceful, welcoming darkness they thought it was. What the poor ships captains could not see were the angry, killing, hands of the waves beating on their ships, battering and grasping at the boards, ripping and tearing at the nails until the boats were coming apart. The dark of night was evil, using the storms fury to gobble up any unsuspecting person in it's path.

The welcoming light of the lighthouse was clearly visible. The sound of the beckoning horn could still be heard.

Safety was at hand but the ships captains did not want the safety, lulled as they were in their dangerous situations.

The lighthouse keeper scanned the sea, three boats close at hand, countless others further out. He motored to the boat where the ships captain was dancing on the deck. Without so much as a hello, the lighthouse keeper grabbed the rope dangling in the sea and towed the boat to the docks.

He anchored both boats and climbed aboard the rescued vessel. The ships captain had not even noticed him, so intent was he at his glorying in the storm and the sea. With a sigh the lighthouse keeper grabbed the captain, tossing him over his shoulder and carrying him through the dark night, the pounding rain, the very fury of the storm.

The captain screamed obscenities at him, pounding him on the back in anger all while his body danced in the storms fury. The captain cursed the lighthouse keeper, unaware that the very man he was laughing at and defying was at the very moment saving him from himself. The captain was angry at the lighthouse keepers interference but he was not going to let that ruin his good time.

The lighthouse keeper carefully carried him into the lighthouse, changed him into soft, dry, comforting clothes, set him in a cushioned chair near the fire and tucked a mug of warm cocoa in his hand. He propped the still dancing feet on a cushion and left a worn but enjoyable book by the captains elbow.

The captain looked a bit dazed, slowly taking in his surroundings.

The lighthouse keeper left him there. The captain had not yet realized that he had been rescued, had not yet even realized he would have perished had it not been for the intervention of the lighthouse keeper. But he would.

He would.

Morning would dawn and with it would come the news of the boats not rescued this night. The fate they were even now experiencing, being dashed upon the jagged rocks, their wood crumbling in the angry hands of the sea, the ships captains lives snuffed out while they gloried in the great storm, would make the news. Their demise would be proclaimed and the ships captain, now nestled safely in the lighthouse, would realize he had been rescued from the same fate even though he had not wanted rescue. In face he had laughed at the rescue offered to him and had it not been for the kindness of the lighthouse keeper he would have suffered the same fate as all the other ships this night.

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Stories are not the best way to depict the saving grace of our wonderful Lord. The greatest love story ever told is that of Christ and His saving of His people. We should not need imaginary stories to depict that event or our unwanted but much appreciated receiving of grace and mercy.

I did not set out to write a storybook depiction of salvation today. It came to me as I read an article written by another called out believer. Something that person said sparked my mind to think of those of us saved from hell. It just popped into my head that we are like the vessels in the evilness of the storm, glorifying in the great waves and the raindrops of sin.

We do now know what we are doing, nor do we realize our great need for saving until after the saving has taken place.

We are like those boats manned by ships captains that are either dancing in sin or sleeping in it. We live and breathe in sin, not looking for an escape until we are literally dragged out of it by the Lord.

If we are lucky enough to be saved from our own sinfulness we do not even realize it is happening until it is finished. We keep on in our sins until the moment that we awake, our minds changed, our hearts renewed and then we look about in a fog not understanding what happened to us.

Thankfully the Lord does not need or want our cooperation. He saves us despite ourselves.