The observer, the ship and the cloud

My faith journey may be likened to a ship out at sea. A remarkably calm open sea you might note. Its sails are hoisted, but limp. No wind is blowing and the air sits stale. The ship appears to be in order, equipments are in tip-top shape, everything is ready to go. Yet walking around, not a single soul is in sight. The deck is vacant, devoid of activity. Much like the weather.

Looking up, a single rather large cloud dominates the clear sky. It seems to radiate an almost imperceptible breeze. The sails however, take no notice of it. A sudden faint light catches your attention. Faraway on the horizons, dark clouds roll and the sea rages. Up ahead, storms are passing. But for now, conditions are calm on this ship.

You venture deeper into the interior of the ship. The wooden steps creak under your weight in the silence. A sudden realisation strikes you, could this be a ghost ship? All around you, the subtle signs of life are present, and yet, where is everybody?

A distant murmur breaks your train of thought. As you approach, it turns into a rousing clamour of voices. You have stumbled upon some sort of an assembly. Present are all manner of groups and circles, clans and factions, teams and crews.

An angry voice cries out “We have talked about this already! Can we please move on?!” “Aye, we needed to make a decision a long LONG time ago!” “Why don’t you tell me something I don’t know for a change?” “Concrete solutions! We need concrete solutions!” “We are simply not ready!” “But we have been stuck here, for far too long!” “Why are we backtracking again? Did we not agree on this already?” “I need a break!”

You spot a familiar face, it is the captain of the ship, surrounded on all sides by the stirring mob. His table is littered with charts and compasses. Plans and proposals are shoved onto the table, many more lie torn up upon the floor. Suddenly, an inscription is held high for all to see and all starts to make sense.

quote

Ben

Onions. Difficult to peel by hand, makes you cry if you use a knife, yet properly prepared and cooked is sweet and adds flavour. That’s like Ben. On that note, please don’t cook him or use knives, thank you.

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