The ancient Celtic Christians, I’m told, would sometimes push their little boats into the chilly waters of the North Atlantic in faith that God would pull them along in His perfect will. Perhaps they’d drift quietly into a sylvan cove, or crash unceremoniously into a settlement of Vikings. Either way… the Spirit was leading them.
It’s a good picture of my arrival in the Bible Belt. I’m not sure what this is all about, but I know that God has tugged my little boat to this spot. And to be honest… I’m a bit scared: Scared of not fitting in. Scared of fitting in. Scared that Calypso may lure me like Odyssius and his crew into slumbering-oblivion on her Island.
Life in South Carolina just feels so stinking safe. Yesterday my friend Muhammed rang me up for help with his English: “Mr Don, what is… ‘frontier’?” “Well that’s a very good word, buddy. It’s a place at the edge of civilization where surroundings are wild and neighbors are few.” It made me homesick. Not that Sarajevo is uncivilized, (heck, there’s even an opera house), but it is a place where kingdom pilgrims face killer conditions and lean hard into one another for survival.
But here I am, docking my boat in a wonderfully civilized place. For those of you sharing my journey, please hold my feet to the fire. Don’t let me cave-in, blend-in, or give-in to the warm, inviting waters of Ogygia.
See what I mean? My generous friends John and Kathleen have opened this
little pool house /guest house as my home for the next six months.