There once was a young man who dreamed of freedom on the open sea. He longed to chart his own course, make his own name, and leave behind the shadow of his father—a seasoned sailor known not just for his skill but for his uncanny ability to sail through any storm to any port.
The boy scraped together enough money to build a small skiff. He patched the hull himself and raised the sail with rope—begged and bartered from others. But the skiff leaked, and the seams would not hold pitch. On his maiden voyage, a gust of wind tore the sail. Stranded far from shore, in the dead of night, the dream collapsed with the canvas.
The boy swam home.
The next morning, his father found him drying his clothes beside the place where the small skiff had once rested in its cradle. Without mockery or pity, the father said, “Giving up?”
“Never. I’ll try again. I know I can do this. I’m sure of it. I was born to sail. I just need the right boat.”
“Why not take my schooner? She’s sturdy. Her sails are new and could use a good shakedown sail.”
The boy blinked. “Your ship?”
“Yes. But don’t worry, son. I will be with you.”
The boy frowned. “Oh, I see. You don’t trust me to take your precious boat out alone?”
The father smiled; his eyes filled with compassion. “Of course I trust you. I wouldn’t have offered my ship or be willing to risk my life with you at the helm if I didn’t. But I will not always be with you. I need you to know me and my words and my character and nature so well you can sail the old girl as though I were manning the helm.”
He handed the boy a leather-bound book, weathered by salt and time. On its cover were these words:
Ship’s Log — If you love me and keep the instructions in this book, I will ask the Creator of the wind to give you another Helper, to be with you forever… I will not leave you as an orphan; I will come to you on the wind. Do not fight the weather, storms, and gales. The wind will guide you true. Because the foolish sailor does not understand the wind, he fights the elements and wrecks his ship. But if you heed the words in this book, you will soon know how to hear the wind and adjust your course, trim sails, and safely reach port. From the book of John, chapter 14, pages 15–18.
With a confused look, the boy asked, “What’s this?”
“My logbook. My father passed it down to me. Inside, you will find the longitudes and latitudes of all the places where you’ll sail.”
“How could you possibly know where I’m sailing to? Are you going to be spying on me?”
“You’re my son. I have a good hunch about these things. There are also ancient charts of distant lands and compass headings you may wish to steer by. At first, the headings may not make sense and may appear to take you off the direct course to your destination. This is by design. Shoals and reefs lie beneath the waters. In other places, currents can sweep you off course if you’re not careful. Best to stick to the suggested headings. But as I say, she is yours to steer. Go where you will.”
Each morning, the boy would apprise conditions on deck—tighten a line, check halyards, study the clouds. He spent time gauging the lift and fall of the swells rolling under the great ship. And every morning, before dawn had fully broken, he would listen for the sound of his father walking about below deck.
When at last the old man appeared, the boy would ask, “Where to?”
Always, the answer was the same. “Wherever the wind blows.”
Soon, the boy lost count of his days at sea. With the setting of the sun each evening, his sense of time slipped away. The schooner sliced through the water as if she were drawing lines on a cobalt blue canvas. True to his father’s word, whenever the boy adjusted his course to accommodate the weather—to bring peace to the ship and comfort to the crew—the vessel responded by keeping him warm, dry, and giving him time to rest, eat, and simply enjoy the heaving and breathing of the ocean.
In those moments of solitude, while his father penned words on scrolls in his cabin, the boy would read from the logbook:
The Son of the Architect who built this vessel advocates for you—A Letter to those in Rome, chapter 8, page 34.
The Son is at the right hand of the Architect, interceding on your behalf. The sun’s light will lead you to the Son. He resides at your final port of destination and now appears in the presence of the Architect, advocating for your safety and joy.—A Letter to the Hebrews, chapter 9, page 24.
The Son searches your heart, and because he knows the mind of the Architect, when your desires and destination align with his will, the wind will fill your sails and you will find peace, joy, and simple pleasures that refresh your soul—A Letter to those in Rome, chapter 8, page 27.
The Son, Wind, and Architect bid you safe passage. Godspeed on your next destination—A Letter to the Hebrews, chapter 7, page 25.
Soon the boy noticed something strange: when the great ship veered into calm waters and then dead calm—when the heat of the day grew unbearable and fresh water became scarce—his father would appear on deck.
At the father’s simple command, “Catch the Wind,” the mainsail would draw taut.
Within moments, they would be underway again, a breeze on the boy’s face.
One evening, as the last light faded, the boy asked, “Why do your words work, and mine don’t?”
The father paused, holding his quill over a page in the logbook. “You were born to sail, but before you can become the sailor you were destined to become, you must be born again.”
“That’s crazy! Mom’s dead! And even if she weren’t, I couldn’t become an infant again.”
“This rebirth happens in your spirit, not your body. You must be born anew by the Architect. Only he can remake you into the sailor you are to become.”
“So… how’s this going to happen if the Architect isn’t on board? ”
“Ask to receive his Wind into your soul, and you will always know the heading to hold, how to set the sails, and the course to follow. The Wind will give you the faith of the Architect. In the hands of the Architect, the old becomes new. The sick are healed. The broken are repaired. The dead are raised. He breathes life into all things. He casts out darkness, fear, doubt, and all thoughts of disaster. That little skiff you restored—even that he can bring back to life.”
“But it’s at the bottom of the ocean.”
“All things are possible for the Architect. Trust him. Ask to be born new as the sailor you were called to become. Then trust it is so. When you trust and do not doubt—when your will aligns with his and you speak his words, wind will come, rough seas will abate, and your soul will be refreshed.”
“That makes no sense. How can someone far away send wind?”
Placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, his father asked, “When you speak, are you not exhaling?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“Though small, your breath exhaling is a gust of wind. What I am suggesting is not strange at all. The wind blows where it will, and no one knows from where. Would you agree?”
“Yes, but—”
“And when a body dies, does it still breathe?”
“Of course not.”
“So too this Wind I speak of gives life to the one who receives it.”
“But I already have life. Until I die, I mean.”
“This Wind comes from above and gives life to your spirit. It shapes your soul for the journeys that lie ahead. Ask for the Wind, son. Then, though you die, you will live and sail forever.”
“Sounds silly, but I’ll think about it.”
Not long afterwards, the boy came on deck to find the air dead calm, as before, only this time the familiar sound of his father tromping about below was missing. With the great ship wallowing back and forth with the rolling of waves, he left the helm unattended and went in search of his father. Though he looked in every cabin, every locker, even in the depths of the bilge with its darkness, his father could not be found.
Perplexed, he returned topside only to discover the logbook on deck by the helm, opened to a new page. When he bent down to read, he found new instructions inside.
A wise young man named Mark declared that the gift of creativity is imputed to all who believe the Architect’s Son is real—that he warms us, gives us light, and comes to us for our good. This gift of creativity empowers us to move mountains, curse trees, heal the sick, raise the dead, calm storms, and fill the sails with wind. You can learn more about this in Mark’s book in chapter 11, page 22. I believe there is a copy in my cabin.
If you listen in silence, you will hear the Wind speaking to you. Though similar, this Wind is different from the wind that fills the sails and moves this ship. This Wind fills you and moves you. This Wind will guide you into all truth. This Wind will only speak what he hears from the Architect. This Wind will whisper to your soul and show you things that lie below the horizon—storms gathering, trouble brewing, and joys to come. For more on this Wind, check the book titled John. Chapter 16, page 13.
The boy hoped that in finding the logbook—and especially now with additional instructions from his father—a breeze would blow and the great ship would set sail once more. But it was not to be. Amidst a cloudless sky, a searing sun beat down upon him. For many days, he sought relief by retreating to his father’s cabin. In books titled Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, he read of how the Wind worked and moved in the lives of sailors long dead.
In the book of John, chapter 6, page 29, he read:
When you hear a whisper in your soul, you will know the Wind is calling you to act in faith. A whisper from the Wind and faith leads to power from the Architect flowing through you. Every whisper from the Wind will match a word from the “books.” Now go forth in confidence, knowing that you will find success and reach your destination.
In the book titled Luke, chapter 17, page 5, the boy read:
All things are sustained by the Son. The Son is the light of men. The Son gives light to your soul. The sun’s light guides men. So, too, the Son guides me through dark times. The sun’s light is constant, but the Son’s light is always increasing, never shrinking. By chasing the sun and seeking the Son, your confidence in the Wind and Architect will increase.
Yes, but how do I follow the Son if there is no Wind, the boy wondered. The sun rises and sets, and I remain in the same spot, hot, miserable, and alone. For long days, he pondered this.
The Wind will guide you… He will whisper a word… He will warn you of what is to come… The Son will give you his faith and increase your faith… The Son resides in heaven, intervening on your behalf… The Son appears on your behalf in heaven’s throne room… The Son searches your heart. He knows the mind of the Architect and comes to you as the Wind… The Son can save those who trust in Him.
Oh, how the boy missed his father. If only I had spent more time listening to my father, I might not be in this fix.
And so it was that soon the boy drifted off to sleep in his father’s cabin, unaware of the approaching storm.
To be continued…
