That's not what ships were made for

I reached a forlorn Outback town in New South Wales called Gilgandra where I and my two unique band members performed Gospel songs in an AOG church and afterwards drove for miles and miles on dirt roads to get to the station (Aussie for farm) where we lodged for the night and I felt I was in the middle of nowhere.
The home was in a dishevelled state: especially the bathroom. There was no shower wall or curtain. Puddles of water were everywhere. The dirty clothes and towels were strewn all over the damp floor. The toothpaste tube was half squeezed out and the top was nowhere to be seen. The toothbrushes suited the scene: the brushes were pushed out from over-use. The basin was dirty with rings of dirt mounting one on the other.
For someone like me who came from a pristine Victorian albeit Afrikaner home where the table cloth and matching serviettes were starched and rows of cutlery were used for the four course meal, it was a bit nerve wracking to view the bathroom where no one seemed to mind the state it was in.
I remember looking at my watch. It was about midnight. I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of purposeless welling up in me.
‘What on earth am I doing in a place like this?’
I felt that our ‘call’ to be in Australia was suddenly so useless. I felt like a misfit, the proverbial square peg in a round hole. Australia didn’t receive us well. What on earth am I still doing here, in the Outback trying to preach and sing the Gospel? The offerings hardly get me from place to place. My wife and kids are hoping I bring something back from this exhausting mission’s tour, but alas, I can foresee nothing positive about my efforts any more.
A sense of sadness crept over me and I felt as dark inside as it was outside. An Emu was circling the house making unearthly noises, like a stone dropping into a water container.
I washed my face in the dirty washing bowl, avoiding the dirty toothbrushes. Then I looked for a towel. They were all damp and used before. Then I spotted some behind the door hoping they would at least be clean, but to my dismay they were dirty too. I took one to dry my face. The smell of the towel was so off-putting that it made me nauseas.
As I lifted the towel an old, torn poster collapsed towards the floor. The towel was propping it up behind the door. I pushed the poster back up and then stared at it for a while.
It was a picture of an old sailing boat in a storm: mast cracked, sails torn and waves bashing over the deck with seamen sprawling for cover and hanging onto the ropes.
‘That’s exactly how I feel inside,’ I thought.
As I straightened it out I noticed the inscription at the bottom.
‘A ship is safe in a harbour; but that is not what ships were made for!’ was all it said.
I took it in and started weeping, silently at first, but audibly after a while. I sank to my knees with the dirty towel in my hands. I understood the message so clearly.
I could have been safe and sound in my own country, South Africa, with a secure 9-5 job and loving parents and friends around me and my family: instead we chose to obey our call to Australia as missionaries. Here I am, in the middle of nowhere, feeling lost in all the storms of life, and at the moment nothing makes sense any more. But like the old ship I have precious cargo to convey to the other shore. I have something to give, even if it is just to minister to a few people in the Outback.
Fairdinkum!
The poster and its inscription inspired me and gave me new courage to carry on and do what I came to do! I learned an important lesson: Christians are safe in churches, but that is not what Christians were made for!
Jesus said, ‘Go into the whole world and make disciples of all nations!’
At least I have obeyed the great commission. At least I’ve given it my best shot!
Since then I have been to 66 nations now…as the great old hymn Amazing Grace says,
‘Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
It’s grace that brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home.’
‘Amazing grace how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now I’m found
I was blind but now I see.’
Amazing Grace was written by Newton, a slave trader, who faced many a storm at sea, and survived to tell the tale. Perhaps that picture would have touched him deeply as well. It touched me for sure. It changed my life. It changed my attitude. It gave me a will to live and to do something meaningful with my life.