In a few weeks, we'll be setting out from Amsterdam on a cruise of the eastern North Sea and the Baltic. Busy thinking about what to pack, and having to deal with overseas security regulations regarding how much shampoo, etc. I'm allowed to carry.
Last time I traveled in Europe was 1973, and that trip ended in Amsterdam, ironically. It will be interesting to see how much the city has changed. And travel. Back then, I carried a backpack and hitchhiked most of the time. Occasionally, for a break, I'd take a night train, in lieu of paying for a youth hostel. In that backpack I carried, along with essentials, a full-sized hardcover Living Bible. I read it almost every day and it was worth the weight. In fact, I still have that Bible and can look back at the notes I made in it then.
Times have changed. Now I can fit a Bible and a whole bunch of other books in my Kindle.
But, as the physical size of my Bible has shrunk, so has my faith, it seems. Forty-five years have passed, and the storms of life have taken their toll. The sails of my ship are tattered, and the masts are leaning, and some are broken. Somewhere out beyond the clouds around me, I remember seeing a lighthouse on the distant shore. I can't see it now, but I hope and pray it's still there.
So I sail on, hoping it is out there, beckoning me to that heavenly shore.
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