The Little Lighthouse, a Parable
(My retelling of a traditional story I heard many years ago.)
Once upon a time there was a lonely little lighthouse, set on the edge of a rock at the lip of the sea.
This was a dangerous part of the sea, with many storms and huge waves, and it was very common for ships to get blown off course and crash against the rocks.
The lighthouse was small. It was really just a hut with a tiny light on top. It only had one little life boat and a small crew of just a few men and women. But that didn’t matter, because this small lighthouse crew kept constant watch over the sea. With no thought for themselves, they went out day and night, tirelessly searching for people who’d been lost in shipwrecks on the coast.
They were so good at saving lives, in fact, that soon the lighthouse became famous. Some of the people that the lighthouse had saved were so thankful that they joined the lighthouse crew themselves. Others heard about the good work it was doing, and started to support it with their time and money.
One rich man who had a passion for sailing bought some brand-new life boats for the crew, to replace the little dinghy it had been using. Another man, who knew all about sailing, started offering yatching lessons, so that people would know how to use their fancy new boats.
Slowly the little lighthouse grew.
Some of the members were unhappy with the crude little lighthouse hut. They felt that people who were rescued should have a more comfortable place to rest in while they were recovering from the shipwreck.
So they enlarged the building, and added nicer furniture.
Some members felt like there should be something to do when they weren’t out rescuing people, so they decided to add a tennis court. Others felt achy and chilly when they came in from rescue missions, so they decided to add a hot tub. Still others wanted their children to enjoy being there, too, so they added a playground.
Soon people from the town started coming out for visits to the lighthouse, on holidays and days-off. It was, after all, a very beautiful spot, with its yatching club and tennis courts, all overlooking the sea like that.
The lighthouse crew was so busy tending to these visitors, that they didn’t have time for many rescue missions anymore, so they hired some full time rescue crews. Someone even paid for them to get fancy “Little Lighthouse Rescue Team” uniforms.
One day a very large ship was wrecked, not far from the little lighthouse. The hired hands went out and brought in boatloads of cold, wet, and half-drowned people.
They were very ragged looking.
Some of them were sick.
The beautiful little lighthouse was considerably messed up, and the regularly scheduled activities were all disrupted as everyone tried to find room for the newcomers.
At the next meeting of the Little Lighthouse Management Board, there was a long discussion. “What should we do about all these shipwrecked castaways?“ they wondered.
“They put muddy footprints in the lobby!” said the Head of Lighthouse Décor.
“They’ve thrown the tennis schedule all out of whack!” said the Program Director.
“They’re crowding out the playground!” said the Facilities Manager.
“I think we should get out of the rescuing business altogether,” called out someone from the back.
As the discussion got heated, one small voice in the corner tried to speak up. “I though we were a lighthouse,” she said. “Isn’t rescuing people from shipwrecks what we’re here for?”
But she was completely voted down. “Saving people is important,” agreed the President of the Little Lighthouse Yatching Club, after the vote. “But if that’s what you want to do, maybe you should start your own lighthouse further down the coast. We’ll even donate some money to help you get it started.”
After the meeting, a small group did try to set up another lighthouse, but before long, the very same thing happened there as what happened at the Little Lighthouse.
In fact, if you visit the seacoast today, you will find a good number of exclusive Little Lighthouse Clubs along the shore. Shipwrecks are still very frequent in those waters, but now, most of the people simply drown.
Wish You Were Here, a song
Wish you were here, it's been such a long time
Since you were here, I almost forgot
To leave the light on
I'm running out of wick
And the night is coming on
Nails bitten to the quick
I wish you were here
Wish I was there, it's been such a long time
Since I was there, I almost forgot
To find my way home
I'm running out of wick
And the night is coming on
Nails bitten to the quick
I wish you were here
Labels: songwriting
For My Daughter on Her Birthday (a poem)
I told you once I’d carry you
Around a mountain lake.
And as you know, I did it too
Long after my arms began to ache.
You clung to me and I to you
Where ever the trail led
Despite the fact that we both knew
That you could have walked instead.
Well that was many years ago.
I'm getting grey and you are grown
And though the lakes still come and go
I’ve had to set you down.
But come what may, may you know it’s true:
If the trail gets steep or there’s no way through,
When the lake is wide, or especially blue,
I'll still always do my best to carry you.
You Said (Seeking You), a song
You said if we would seek you we would find you
If we sought you with all of our heart
You said if we would call you you would answer
If we called you with all that we are
You said if we would ask you, you would grant
If we asked you according to your will
You said if we would seek you we would find you
If we knocked you would open the door
We are seeking you with all of our heart Lord
We are seeking you with all of our mind
We are seeking you with all of our strength Lord
Leaving the treasures of this world far behind
You said if we would seek you we would find you
If we sought you with all of our heart
You said if we would call you you would answer
If we called you with all that we are
We are seeking you with all of our heart Lord
We are seeking you with all of our mind
We are seeking you with all of our strength Lord
Leaving the treasures of this world far behind
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
Hallelujah, hallelujah!
We are seeking you with all of our heart Lord
We are seeking you with all of our mind
We are seeking you with all of our strength Lord
Leaving the treasures of this world far behind
For Cephas (a poem)
Jesus came to church today
Hands bruised by the frost
On a bitter Wednesday afternoon.
He had no where to lay his head
And the acrid smell of street-sleep
Hung like a halo about his hair.
And no one quite knew what to say—
The meaning of his words were often lost.
But someone put the kettle on
And someone warmed some soup and bread.
We gave him gloves he could not keep
And everyone was honored he was there.
Then Jesus Christ fell fast asleep
In the corner while we turned to prayer.
He woke up when we read his Word
And grinned to hear His story told—
And as he left we understood:
Tonight the Christ-child’s homeless hands
Are bleeding with the cold
Labels: poetry
Speak Lord (a song)
The voice of the Lord is rolling on the waters
The voice of the Lord it thunders from the deep
The voice of the Lord it flashes forth like lighting
For who can hear his mighty voice
Its power and its majesty
It’s calling to his people, the voice of the Lord
Speak Lord your servants are listening
Touch us an open our ears
Whisper your light in our darkness
Teach our hearts how to hear
The voice of the Lord it breaks the mighty cedars
The voice of the Lord it strips the forest bare
The voice of the Lord is might and majestic
For who can hear his awesome voice
Its scattering His enemies
It makes the nations tremble, the voice of the Lord
Speak Lord your servants are listening
Touch us an open our ears
Whisper your light in our darkness
Teach our hearts how to hear
The voice of the Lord it whispers in the darkness
The voice of the Lord it echoes in the night
The voice of the Lord is summoning his servants
For who can hear his small still voice
It beckons in the silences
It’s searching for an answer, the voice of the Lord
Speak Lord your servants are listening
Touch us an open our ears
Whisper your light in our darkness
Teach our hearts how to hear
In his temple all cry glory!
In his temple all cry glory!
In his temple all cry glory!
In his temple all cry glory!
Speak Lord your servants are listening
Touch us an open our ears
Whisper your light in our darkness
Teach our hearts how to hear
Labels: songs, songwriting
Sweet Contentment (a poem)
Were you standing there the whole time?
That late night on the fair grounds
Watching fireworks burst and sparkle
While my youngest child pressed herself
Against my chest for warmth and strength
And together we watched the scintillating
Floral starbursts punctuate a day well played?
And was that you peering over my shoulder?
That afternoon my first-born son and I
Canoed across a quiet lake
After a long and weary week of summer camp;
He waiting days for this one lone outing with his dad
And I sinking slowly into a stillness in my heart
While the breeze pushed us back to shore
And he asked me if God had ever spoke to me?
The day my middle one led the praise
While we all sat round a glowing yellow fire
With the rocky mountain sunset long since faded
And the campground neighbours stopping by
To hear her sing and join the song
While every strum was a rhythm we both knew
That I had taught her—
Was that you?
Through soft nights pressed up warm and safe
Against the shape of my beloved?
Holding out the cup and bread
To any who would dare to feast on grace--
Thoughtful walks through autumn leaves--
The warmth of summer sunshine on my face--
A hint of Russian olive on the breeze--
A lingering joy that never leaves a trace?
Were you waiting for me all the while,
To turn to you without yearning or resentment?
You’ll have to forgive me my neglect:
If somehow I missed the overwhelming smile
Of your sweet contentment.
Labels: poetry