What Boat?

Once upon a time there was a man named Bob. Bob was a happily successful suburb-dwelling business man with a happy (also spelled d-e-l-u-s-i-o-n-a-l) wife and happy children, happy dogs and a happy home.

One day while Bob was busy doing mellow Bob things, God said, "Hey! You, Bob!" Bob responded immediately to the voice, grateful that the Creator of the World got his name right (Being referred to as "Rob," "Ronald," or even "Doug" is not uncommon for a man with such a complex and unusual name.).

"Er...yes, LORD?"

"Get outta' the boat, Bob."

"Excuse me?"

"Outta' the boat. I want you to get out of the boat."

"For sure. What boat might that be, God?"

"The comfortable, relaxed, chillin' out comfort zone of a boat you've been floating around in for the past eight years. I want you out of it."

"Out? Like into the icy, turbulent, lurching waves of the gigantic untamed sea of life?"

"Uh...well...that's a little more drama than I intended, but yeah. That 'out.'"

"I dunno. It's pretty comfortable here in my metaphorical boat."

"Don't I know it!"

And so Bob was faced with a decision. Remain comfortably in his "boat," sailing phlegmatically through life in a contented fog of self-satisfied oblivion, or step out onto those analogous waves and see what exactly the wave-Maker wanted him out there for.

Bob, remarkably calm in the face of pending disaster, told his devoted (also spelled
m-a-u-d-l-i-n) wife that Great news! God wants me to get out of my comfort zone and start taking some risks for Him! He says I should 'Get out of the boat.'

Aforementioned committed (also spelled h-i-s-t-r-i-o-n-i-c) wife, with a startling lack of calm replied, Stay in the damn boat! Yes, she did. Bob was amused. And then he proceeded to pack all of his figurative spiritual, emotional, and mental bags in preparation for his starboard leap.

He leaped. That heretofore unassuming, silent, compassion-less man jumped into that roiling metaphorical sea where he would quickly becoming assuming, conversational, and responsively compassionate.

And there he floats today. Bobbing along, moving from one white-capped wave to the next. Consistently hearing that same God voice as it tosses unsuspecting sea-flounder-ers into his chunk of the ocean. Bob is very much out of his comfort zone as he reaches out to lend a hand to some sinking soul, or to give a listen to some hollering water-treader.

The boat's long gone. He couldn't find it to climb back into if he wanted to.

His wife, meanwhile, is missing her man, so she's straddling the side, dangling a tentative toe in that chilly, chilly sea. She knows Bob's got it right and the boat is very empty without him. She's strapping the kids to her back and preparing to hurl herself, boys and all, over the side in pursuit of her man and her God.

The dogs will have to fend for themselves.