On my shelf in my office is clock ship. At the time of writing this article, the clock doesn’t work, and to my knowledge has never has worked in my possession. But it sits where I can see it, in my bookshelf, right above my computer screen. And it sits as a reminder of days gone by from my childhood.
My bedroom was on the third floor of our home, and because of the stairs, coupled with respected privacy, mom rarely ventured up there. So whenever I was sick, she made a bed for me on the living room couch. Two things usually happened to make me as comfortable as possible. First, dad turned the chimes off on the living room clock and stopped the two cuckoo clocks in the dining room. Secondly, mom positioned this same ship clock near the couch and turned on the red bulbs as a night lights (never mind that outside our huge front windows was a street light on all night).
There I lay throughout the night, sailing on dreams with a ship clock as my guide and comforter, ensuring me that when morning comes we’ll safely make it to port.
By 1989 mom had decided to clean house and “willed” her clock collections to her children. Steve got the clock that sat on the organ. Tim was given the clock that chimed each hour. David and Deanna each received cuckoo clocks. Mom offered me the ship clock that had “run aground” so many years earlier.
I remember having the clock in the little living room of the first house Cile and I occupied in Cookeville, Tennessee. However, soon after, we moved to Memphis to begin my graduate training for ministry, and we stored much of our belongings in her mother’s attic, including the clock. Three and a half years later, we moved to Greeneville, Tennessee; I left the clock at my mother-in-law’s attic and it remained there until my brother-in-law found it. He liked it, brought it home and gave it a temporary fix. He held on to it for about 10 years until he and his wife graciously offered it back to me last summer.
When it was time to move to Sunshine Church, I packed it away and it took me a couple of weeks to locate the ship clock. It has now come to safe harbor on a shelf in my office where I can see it just over my computer screen as a reminder, not of my childhood, but of my twenty years of preaching ministry.
Ships are made for the high waters, and are intended to weather storms. The G.T. Shed quote has merit, “The ship is safe in the harbor, but that’s not ships are built for.” Ships were made for the ocean, but the ocean is filled with danger. On one extreme, hurricanes and tidal waves can rip a ship apart. On the other extreme, without wind propelling the ship, it leaves it adrift for days on end, forcing sailors to ration their supplies. Underneath the ship, who knows what mutiny may emerge or what is living in the deep depths of the ocean. So the ships that reach historic claims are usually the ones who thrive with Blue Skies and survive during the Rainstorms.
The clock reminds me, like in 1 Samuel 7, that for the past twenty-plus years of my preaching ministry, God has brought me safely to this harbor, and is ready to send me out again. During those twenty years of preaching, I’ve felt the thrill of high winds driving my sails while propelling me through the waters, like in a wedding when you feel good about the couple, or a sermon you know connected with the congregation, or receiving a note that attributes your ministry to guiding them on their spiritual journey. But I’ve been through plenty of times when the winds have failed me and I feel adrift, and the best I can do is to lay anchor and wait while busy work replaces meaningful study, meditation, and prayer. Then there are the storms. Some are self-inflicted, like saying or doing something I shouldn’t have, and there’ve been plenty of those. Other storms emerged because of personality clashes. Still others emerged because the message of the gospel challenges power structures in place.
So as I sit here and write this article, peering over my screen to the clock ship, I take comfort in knowing, whether in Blue Skies or Rainstorms, God will get me through any storm that comes my way, and deliver me safely to my final destination. And by the way, he’ll do the same for you.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)