A friend of mine mentioned a woman in the bathtub.
She and her friend were on a trip aboard a large ocean playground sailing across the vast deep. She told me, “The whole time we were at sea, my roommate slept in the bathtub.”
The vision of someone placing pillows in a tub, lying down, and resting for the evening jolted me. The reason? She was afraid. Afraid something would happen to the hunky, steel voyager.
The average cruise ship weighs from 20,000 to 60,000 tons, though cruise ship weights are usually calculated using gross registered tons (as they disperse water with their mass).
As we know, passenger steamers are known to have disastrous crashes; something could happen, but then, something can happen as we cross the street.
I thought about this dear lady attempting to calm her fear with an act that wouldn’t save her if the ship went down. (Maybe she didn’t expect it to completely save her. It could be it was like hiding in the strongest part of a house during a tornado.) Whatever her rationale, I thought about–How often do I do this? What chasms of life do I apply bandages to?
God doesn’t want me shrinking back in fear aboard a floating hotel or in anything else.
A few weeks ago, I posted an image of a bold and fearless lion. The grand mane and golden-colored eyes of this magnificent beast staring into the camera captured the text that says, “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.”(2 Timothy 1:7) (The “sound mind” means discipline or self-control.)
If I knew the woman in the bathtub, I would print this image and give it to her. Possibly it would help her get out of the bathtub bed and live blessed sleep-filled nights securely in her own.