Of Lifeboats and Lighthouses

Christmas Eve. A crisp sunny day in Donaghadee. Chips at the Captain’s Table. A happy toddler by the sea.

A walk along the harbour, out to the lighthouse, looking back at the Balamory coloured houses and the low sun through a misty cloud. The Lifeboat. How to explain a Lifeboat to a toddler. From here? Impossible. Calm (though never complacent), waiting motionless in glassy waters. Observed from the foot of the Lighthouse, safe on dry land.

Donaghadee lifeboatHere, on the cusp of the Feast of Salvation Incarnate, so close to the Light, and in the glow of blinding winter sunshine, we can’t see it… Today Christmas seems a luminous affair, a truly sweet and beautiful story (if you forget the massacre) but hardly Rescue. But my grandfather’s ship was torpedoed in WW2. My great-grandfather, my great-great grandfather, my uncle, my late cousin, fishermen and seafarers… This Lifeboat is for us. The Lighthouse too. For coming to us where we are, and bringing us home.

Where to now wf61? Not sure. Swimming lessons? Lifeguard training? Lifeboat volunteering? Fundraising? Some metaphorical spiritual equivalent? I’ve enjoyed this Advent journey. May tomorrow bring new gifts (even amidst struggle and loss) for us all to share.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in 1 and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s