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DEVOTIONALS
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*** *** *** *** *** The Good Ship Lollipop Storms ripped across the country from every direction, wrecking havoc far and wide, disrupting all manner of commerce and ripping things to shreds. The ground heaved to and fro like waves on the ocean, and people ran about in clusters franticly looking for a safe place. Any place. Up was down. Down was up. Right was wrong. And wrong was right. Was this America I was seeing? I scarce could believe my eyes, but it was. It was America the Beautiful; but, she wasn’t so pretty on this dreadful day. The people, running about as I said, were desperate to find a place, some place, any place that could provide them with some measure of security and safety until the storms passed over. That’s when they spotted the Good Ship Lollipop, anchored just off shore and ready to set sail. The waters were heaving as was the land, but ships are built for that sort of thing. And so in one massive move, like a school of fish in the deep blue sea, this great cluster of frantic folk dashed for the shoreline and rushed on board the Ocean Liner. It looked like the Love Boat, gleaming bright and beautiful, as it towered above the surging billows. The impressive Captain stood on the upper deck with a winsome smile and sparkling teeth; his crew, neatly dressed and sharply focused, oozed a swaggering confidence as more and more frightened souls boarded the hopeful vessel. No one noticed, and its understandable given the hectic nature of the moment, that there was something wrong. Something very, very wrong. Nevertheless, with her quarters fully loaded, her deck completely filled, and even the cargo hold packed with people, so much so that no one else could even possibly get on board, the Captain gave the order to weigh anchor and head out to sea to weather the storm. The crowd cheered for they had been saved. The captain waved, like Presidents do when passing quickly through a great crowd, impersonal-like while wearing a photo-op smile. “Michael, row your boat ashore, hallelujah,” someone started, and it wasn’t long until the entire ship, crew and passenger alike, were caught up in song and silliness. I suppose it was the sense of relief they felt at being delivered from so great a peril as was raging across the land. Somewhere about two or three miles out, right in the middle of “Froggy went a courtin’, he did ride, huh huh; huh, huh” – a deep groan bellowed up from below deck. It was an awful sound. The sound you hear in movies when a submarine goes too deep too fast and is just about to be crushed. A low, vibrating sustained moan of a noise that suddenly overpowered all other things and brought the ship to utter silence. And then the noise roared out again, only this time it was frightfully clear. It was human voices crying out in terror from below. Something was happening down under and the people there were trapped. The ship was sinking! This glorious craft, dressed in splendor with swabbed decks and gleaming fixtures, was not, after all, a sea-worthy vessel. In fact, it had been years since she had even set out to sea. Anchored in the harbor for ages, she had become more of a museum than a ship. And while her hull was in tact, the problem was that her sides had holes just above the water line. Holes that had been caused by other ships taking shots at her for target practice. A few holes had been patched up, at least superficially on the port side so as to maintain a first class appearance to passersby. But none of that mattered now. The ship, freighted with the weight load of desperate humanity, had lowered into the sea and was now taking on water and going down quick. The frivolity of the crew and passengers vanished and became the most intense outcry of both horror and rage ever witnessed. Horror at the inescapable doom now facing them, and rage that they had been deceived into believing this vessel to be their hope. Matters only worsened when the Captain, appearing on the upper deck in dress whites, stood at attention near the Captain’s bow and saluted, readying himself to go down with the ship as his last noble act. But it was the look on his face that gave him up. Try as he may to set his jaw like steel, the trembling in his own bones took over and he quivered like a little boy lost in the woods at night. And there is more. It was the look in his eye that was the most telling of all. A look of guilt, colored with shame, and tinted with disgrace. It was immediately obvious to everyone that the Captain had known all along that this was going to happen. He had known the vessel was not ready; known that holes yet needed to be repaired. But in the happy, festive days before all hell broke loose, he had taken his leisure and put off till later what he knew he should do; what he had fully intended to do. But now it was too late. The last sound I heard before the great ship sank in the depths of the monstrous sea was the voice of this multitude raised as one, asking a singular question to the shamefaced Captain – “You knew this was going to happen, and you did not tell us?!” That was the moment I woke up. It was all a dream; only a dream. Thank God. For days I found it difficult to put the dream out of my mind, but as time passed the haunting images of those terrible scenes dimmed a bit and seemed to fade into a fog, still slightly traceable to one who knew where to look. Occasionally someone would say something, or I would see something in a movie, or on TV that brought it back in vivid clarity to trouble my mind yet again. But after awhile, as before, it would fade and blend once again into the background noise of my sometimes over-active brain. And then September 11, 2001 happened; a Tuesday that would forever change life in America. And after 9/11, then 9/16. That was the following Sunday when everybody went to church. At least it seemed like everybody. Now, if 9/11 was a wakeup call for our Nation, as everyone seems to acknowledge; then 9/16 was a wakeup call for the Church. But, unlike the Nation that has stood vigilant against terror since that day, it seems the Church may have rolled over and gone back to sleep. I am a hopeful man; an optimist at heart; a positive thinker, a joke teller, a good-time kind of guy. The last thing in the world I want to see is any of this dream even remotely come to pass – and, mind you, I’m not saying that any of it will. What I am saying, however, is that – while there are many good churches led by godly pastors, strategically planted throughout our great land; the over-all condition of the North American church world is disturbingly like the Good Ship Lollipop in my bothersome dream. And 9/16 showed us that in stark terms. At our Nation’s most vulnerable moment, rocked by terror and overwhelmed with grief, multitudes came into the church hungry for God. But they found our cupboards filled with candy, and we ourselves on a sugar high. By 9/30, just three weeks after the attacks, they were gone – and have not been back to church since. They came looking for hope, and found mostly hype. “I’ve never seen such a dramatic change disappear so quickly,” said pollster Andrew Kohut, speaking about the spike and then falloff in the influence of religion in America after the September 11 terrorist attacks. I suppose the point of all this is to ask – what if it happens again? Will the Church be ready this time to respond in a way that meets the needs of those looking for real answers? And what of you, O Captains; is she a sea-worthy vessel? Is she ready to be freighted with the full cargo of a desperate humanity who turn once again to Jesus for salvation? If not, then Michael row your boat to shore – and get it fixed. We missed an opportunity once. We must not make that mistake again. TruthWorks Epiphanies are freely distributed Visit the sites noted below for some inspiration and reflection on our daily lives. Real stories of real people. Articles that will make you think. Published by ACTS International. Click on ACTS Daily Encounter or ACTS Daily Articles Our Daily Bread My Utmost For His Highest THE MASTER'S VOICE Devotional Letter ANCHOR devotionals from Haven Ministries. Another great source of daily encouragement. Campus Journal PERSPECTIVE FREE DOWNLOAD
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