"Let the lower lights be burning
Send the gleam across the wave
Some poor fainting struggling seaman
You may rescue...you may save."
I don't know how well I can put my thoughts down on paper this morning but I will try. I have been thinking about three different things for a long time.
When we visit a grave site of a dear one or even a stranger to us, we see four things on that tombstone. We see our friends, or strangers name. We see his or hers birthdate. We see their date of death. And then there is something else that we see. This something else is what has made me have lots of thoughts. We see between the birth date and the death date a dash. What am I doing during that dash of my life? Am I keeping that time of my life to myself? Am I sharing that little short span of life with others? Am I giving that dash of time to God? What am I doing with that small short span of time that is so valuable. So important.
I have always been amazed with the lighthouse. We have a friend on Facebook that shared his love for these amazing buildings with us and I love to look at them for a long length of time. As I look at them, my mind drifts. It drifts out to those seas of life.
We are all on this beautiful sea of life. For some it may lay crystal clear. Completely transparent and unclouded. For others it may be stormy and rugged and choppy. For some it may look hopeless, dark and cold. For some it may be smooth, sunshine and beautiful. We all have our own sea. We all have our own little boat.
But I think about that lighthouse that is there for us all. That lighthouse that stands there on the rugged shores of this sea of life, throwing its beam out across the sea of life. Its beam of hope. Its beam of courage. Its beam of love. It beam of compassion. The light that can guide a struggling seaman to safety. A light that can guide a happy carefree soul to safety. I like the thought that God has placed little lighthouses along the shore and we are the keeper of the one He has given to us. Our life. Our little dash between the dates.
When we start a new day could we start it with hopes that our little beam of light could help someone who may be struggling today with a burden we know nothing about? Could our little beam of light encourage someone who is smiling, to smile all day? Could our little beam of light shine out into a dark, cold, troubled heart and spark just a bit of hope? I hope so.
We once toured a lighthouse. It stood strong and tall on the high cliffs of Lake Michigan. We were taken up to the top where the lantern sat. We were told that the keeper of this lighthouse would come up here all hours of the night to make sure that light kept shining. They would spend hours shining the glass around this light. We were told that the man who tended to this giant white building setting there on the high cliff of Lake Michigan, had a heart for another. He cared for the person out there on the waves of Lake Michigan who was trying to get home. He cared no matter if it was his friend or a total stranger. He reaches out to everyone. He give hope to everyone.
As I stood there, just inches from that huge lantern in its glass cage, I looked down that rugged cliff to the rocks below. Then I raised my head and looked across that vast, huge, dark blue water and as far as my eyes could see it went on and on and on until its edges touched the skies. Then all went blank and in my minds eye a new more meaningful picture filled my mind. I will try and take you with me to see that I saw in my mind as I stood that day just inches from that lantern there on that high cliff above those waters of Lake Michigan.
It was a dark stormy black night. No stars were shining in the vast skies above. I was in a little fishing boat, way out in the waters of a huge sea. I was rowing as hard as I could, hopping that I would beat the storm that was bearing down on my little boat. But the winds were starting to pick up. It was getting colder. Yet I rowed.
All of a sudden it hit. Huge waves hit my little boat. First from the front and then from the side. Then I felt myself being lifted into the air and then water covered me for a minute. Yet I rowed. I was becoming frantic by now. But yet I rowed, trying to beat those huge rugged waved that were throwing my little boat this way and that.
I tried for hours to reach safety. I was getting weary. I was getting discouraged. I was afraid and scared. Those waves were tossing me around so much that I was losing my sense of direction. I was becoming lost. I had no idea what direction I was going or where I should go. I was so tired. So I just sat there in my little boat, under that dark, black starless, mean sky, while those huge, ugly, strong waves beat me this way and that. All hope was gone. All my dreams ended. I had given up.
I raised my eyes up to tell God that I was done, and there in the far away distance I saw it. Beaming through that darkness, was a little speck light. The light of a lighthouse. I knew in my heart that someone had got out of their warm bed, climbed those old worn stairs, and bent to light that lantern in its glass cage. I knew that his probably didn't know that I was out here in this storm. He didn't know that I was so weary that it was hard for me to even pick up the oar. He didn't know that I had lost direction and all hope of reaching safety. But he did have a heart of love. He had gotten out of bed to light the lantern just for me. So with courage from that little beam of light, I once again picked up the oars and started toward that light. He had brought me to safety. He had lite the lantern for me.
So my friends. No matter what you are doing today. Some of you may be farmers, just doing your thing alone under the big open skies. Some of you may be sitting behind a desk. Some of you may be doctors, some nurses. Some of you may be little boys and girls playing on the school playground, or walking the halls with a friend. Some of you may be sitting along in your little room in a nursing home, feeling like your no help to anyone. Today will find us in different places, and different walks of life.
But we all are still filling out that little dash between those dates. We all can walk those old worn out stairs to the top of our little lighthouse and bend to lite the lantern inside its glass cage. I like to think that God has set a lighthouse on the high cliff and we each are the keeper of our own. We each have the privilege of lighting that lantern. The most important thing to remember is that someone may be out there on the sea of life. They may be worn, discouraged, weary, and have given up hope. A lantern does not say a word, but it shines. So help all of us, no matter where we are, to be a keeper of our lighthouse, so that our beam of light will reach out and bring hope.
Send the gleam across the wave
Some poor fainting struggling seaman
You may rescue...you may save."
I don't know how well I can put my thoughts down on paper this morning but I will try. I have been thinking about three different things for a long time.
When we visit a grave site of a dear one or even a stranger to us, we see four things on that tombstone. We see our friends, or strangers name. We see his or hers birthdate. We see their date of death. And then there is something else that we see. This something else is what has made me have lots of thoughts. We see between the birth date and the death date a dash. What am I doing during that dash of my life? Am I keeping that time of my life to myself? Am I sharing that little short span of life with others? Am I giving that dash of time to God? What am I doing with that small short span of time that is so valuable. So important.
I have always been amazed with the lighthouse. We have a friend on Facebook that shared his love for these amazing buildings with us and I love to look at them for a long length of time. As I look at them, my mind drifts. It drifts out to those seas of life.
We are all on this beautiful sea of life. For some it may lay crystal clear. Completely transparent and unclouded. For others it may be stormy and rugged and choppy. For some it may look hopeless, dark and cold. For some it may be smooth, sunshine and beautiful. We all have our own sea. We all have our own little boat.
But I think about that lighthouse that is there for us all. That lighthouse that stands there on the rugged shores of this sea of life, throwing its beam out across the sea of life. Its beam of hope. Its beam of courage. Its beam of love. It beam of compassion. The light that can guide a struggling seaman to safety. A light that can guide a happy carefree soul to safety. I like the thought that God has placed little lighthouses along the shore and we are the keeper of the one He has given to us. Our life. Our little dash between the dates.
When we start a new day could we start it with hopes that our little beam of light could help someone who may be struggling today with a burden we know nothing about? Could our little beam of light encourage someone who is smiling, to smile all day? Could our little beam of light shine out into a dark, cold, troubled heart and spark just a bit of hope? I hope so.
We once toured a lighthouse. It stood strong and tall on the high cliffs of Lake Michigan. We were taken up to the top where the lantern sat. We were told that the keeper of this lighthouse would come up here all hours of the night to make sure that light kept shining. They would spend hours shining the glass around this light. We were told that the man who tended to this giant white building setting there on the high cliff of Lake Michigan, had a heart for another. He cared for the person out there on the waves of Lake Michigan who was trying to get home. He cared no matter if it was his friend or a total stranger. He reaches out to everyone. He give hope to everyone.
As I stood there, just inches from that huge lantern in its glass cage, I looked down that rugged cliff to the rocks below. Then I raised my head and looked across that vast, huge, dark blue water and as far as my eyes could see it went on and on and on until its edges touched the skies. Then all went blank and in my minds eye a new more meaningful picture filled my mind. I will try and take you with me to see that I saw in my mind as I stood that day just inches from that lantern there on that high cliff above those waters of Lake Michigan.
It was a dark stormy black night. No stars were shining in the vast skies above. I was in a little fishing boat, way out in the waters of a huge sea. I was rowing as hard as I could, hopping that I would beat the storm that was bearing down on my little boat. But the winds were starting to pick up. It was getting colder. Yet I rowed.
All of a sudden it hit. Huge waves hit my little boat. First from the front and then from the side. Then I felt myself being lifted into the air and then water covered me for a minute. Yet I rowed. I was becoming frantic by now. But yet I rowed, trying to beat those huge rugged waved that were throwing my little boat this way and that.
I tried for hours to reach safety. I was getting weary. I was getting discouraged. I was afraid and scared. Those waves were tossing me around so much that I was losing my sense of direction. I was becoming lost. I had no idea what direction I was going or where I should go. I was so tired. So I just sat there in my little boat, under that dark, black starless, mean sky, while those huge, ugly, strong waves beat me this way and that. All hope was gone. All my dreams ended. I had given up.
I raised my eyes up to tell God that I was done, and there in the far away distance I saw it. Beaming through that darkness, was a little speck light. The light of a lighthouse. I knew in my heart that someone had got out of their warm bed, climbed those old worn stairs, and bent to light that lantern in its glass cage. I knew that his probably didn't know that I was out here in this storm. He didn't know that I was so weary that it was hard for me to even pick up the oar. He didn't know that I had lost direction and all hope of reaching safety. But he did have a heart of love. He had gotten out of bed to light the lantern just for me. So with courage from that little beam of light, I once again picked up the oars and started toward that light. He had brought me to safety. He had lite the lantern for me.
So my friends. No matter what you are doing today. Some of you may be farmers, just doing your thing alone under the big open skies. Some of you may be sitting behind a desk. Some of you may be doctors, some nurses. Some of you may be little boys and girls playing on the school playground, or walking the halls with a friend. Some of you may be sitting along in your little room in a nursing home, feeling like your no help to anyone. Today will find us in different places, and different walks of life.
But we all are still filling out that little dash between those dates. We all can walk those old worn out stairs to the top of our little lighthouse and bend to lite the lantern inside its glass cage. I like to think that God has set a lighthouse on the high cliff and we each are the keeper of our own. We each have the privilege of lighting that lantern. The most important thing to remember is that someone may be out there on the sea of life. They may be worn, discouraged, weary, and have given up hope. A lantern does not say a word, but it shines. So help all of us, no matter where we are, to be a keeper of our lighthouse, so that our beam of light will reach out and bring hope.
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