It’s All About Us
By Paul Zukunft, Session Elder
Psalm 69: 1-4 “Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in the miry depths where there is no foothold. I have come into deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail looking for my God.”
As a career seafaring officer in the Coast Guard, I can relate to this Psalm (and a somber one at that) on multiples levels. And with that, comes another sea story from my daily journals that ties this Psalm and the title of this devotion to everyday life.
It was July 1991 and I was in command of a light frigate patrolling the central Caribbean off the coast of Haiti. A mass exodus from that grief-stricken island was underway, with tens of thousands of Haitian citizens taking to the water in rickety boats with no food, water, or personal flotation devices. Their objective was to flee Haiti, make landfall along the coast of Florida, and start a new and much improved life. Now these boats called “Haitian sail freighters” had no engine, radio, life jackets, or navigation instruments and were at the mercy of the winds and currents to reach their destination. A typical Haitian sail freighter is constructed of wood, about 45 feet in length, and carried over 200 passengers during this exodus of Biblical proportions. However, in this case, the sea did not part and proved to be quite tempestuous. Hope gave way to despair as these grossly overloaded boats floundered and the occupants, many of whom could not swim, were literally up to their necks in water.
Within a 24-hour period, my crew rescued over 880 survivors and added one more when a Haitian woman gave birth to a baby boy in our helicopter hangar-turned-maternity ward.
Thirty years later, I look back on that near-tragedy and the death-defying desperation of God’s creations seeking to improve their lot in life. Each Haitian migrant was eternally grateful for being rescued and given a second chance in life, albeit upon being repatriated to their Haitian homeland.
Most striking was the manner in which my crew of 100 shipmates ministered to these 881 Haitian migrants. Those who were not standing watch pulled double duty in the galley to prepare a sumptuous feast for our guests who had not eaten in days. Several Chief Petty Officers, with the help of a translator, told nursery rhymes from memory to comfort the many children. Two of my female officers served as nurse assistants to the new mother, and her baby that was delivered by our corpsman. None of this was scripted, and it was purely spontaneous and humanitarian.
Bottom line––there was no “us” and “them.” It was just us! Too often we draw these invisible lines, especially between the fortunate and less fortunate. We turn a deaf ear or blind eye to those who have “come into deep waters,” as though their hardship might be contagious. And when their throats become parched from calling out for help and their eyes fail looking for God, it is we, as followers of Christ, who must answer that call and be that beacon of hope. After all, we are all God’s children, and we are all in this boat together––just us!
Prayer: Almighty God, as we survey Your great creation, our eyes are opened to the widespread suffering and hardships among us, and know that we are all equals in Your eyes. Use us as Your footholds of grace and compassion so that Your will shall be done. Amen.
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