He sat alone, head sunk to his chest. He felt dejected, worn down, beyond care.
“How did I get like this?” he asked to no one in particular. He barely had strength to even think these thoughts. He’d never felt so alone and miserable. Seaman tried to remember how it all got started, but his tortured mind could not think anymore.
“When did this downward spiral begin, and why didn’t I recognize the signs along the way? Why didn’t someone warn me?” he bleated pathetically to himself. “Is there no one out there who cares? No one with compassion; where is everyone?” His battered ears heard no reply, only silence.
He sighed, groaned, and tried to shift position so that his lower body gained a little relief, but the hardwood of the seat, worn smooth by centuries of former occupants, offered him no relief.
How many people sat in this very spot? wondered Seaman. What was their fate? How did they end up?
The chains around his ankles and wrists had chaffed his skin raw. His once nice clothing now hung like tattered rags loosely over his skeletal frame. The blackness around him was so thick that his eyes could not perceive even a glimmer of light anywhere. The blackness felt palpable…almost a living thing. Although he could not see them, Seaman heard the moans and groans of the others below deck with him. The air was hot and stifling; despair began to slowly creep over him.
He looked down at his body, emaciated beyond recognition. He was bone weary and desperately wanted to rest, but there was no rest to be had. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been in the hold of the ship. He wondered what day, month, or year it was. Time seemed to have stopped. He desperately wished he could turn back the clock and heed his mother’s warnings.
“I wish I had never seen this awful ship,” he said softly to himself. He bitterly regretted that he ever looked at this ship, let alone accepted the invitation to board.
P
Ever since he could remember, Seaman had always had affinity for the sea; it was in his blood. Seaman’s father was a sailor, and he had been told his grandpa wanted to be one. Seaman remembered how ecstatic he was on the rare occasion when his father came back from one of his voyages with tales of adventures, strange sights, and faraway places.
“I want to go to sea too, Daddy,” he said, looking adoringly at his father.
“If God wills, my little seaman, you will,” his father replied.
Since that time, he insisted on being called Seaman. Some of the kids at school didn’t even know he had another name. He was always Seaman.
P
The sound of laughter and happy voices coming from the dock broke Seaman out of his reverie. He knew they were docked but had no idea where in the world the ship was. It wasn’t long before Seaman heard the laughter getting closer and then the sound of boots and shoes clomping on the gangway. He hoped and prayed that another victim had not been invited to come aboard.
P
Seaman’s mind began to wander again. He remembered his mother cautioning him that fateful day.
“Remember, Seaman, don’t you be going down to that dock; it’s not safe. You promised me and your grandma never to go to the docks alone. You never know who or what’s down there. It’s too dangerous,” she warned.
But his mother’s pleas landed on deaf ears. He had heard the same warnings repeatedly from his mother and grandma over the years about the docks and the ancient ships that fascinated him so. He never gave a second thought to their warnings. Instead, each day after school, he would drop his books on the table with a thump, promising his mother that he would be back later to do his homework, and off he would scoot out the door before she could say anything. He was clever enough never to take a direct path to the docks so that his mother and his grandma wouldn’t see where he was headed and scold him.
The ancient ships didn’t dock every day, and Seaman didn’t want to miss them when they did; that’s why he always headed to the docks after school daily. Some days he would rendezvous with other boys around his age, and they would head to the docks together. This day, however, he made the choice to go it alone. He was sixteen, almost seventeen, and the world was an exciting place full of adventure. What better adventure than to sail on a historic ship with the best crew?
“Oh, Mama,” Seaman groaned, “you were right as always.” He felt his misery growing.
P
Suddenly, Seaman could hear what sounded like angry voices and shouting, although he couldn’t make out what was said. There were shuffling sounds and thumping.
That’s strange, Seaman thought to himself. Not sure I’ve heard that before.
There had occasionally been strange sounds from time to time. Usually, he could detect what they were. He shuddered to think about the first time he saw the evil, loathsome creature, one of the crew, burst through the door of the ship’s hold and unchain the feeble human on the seat in front of him. The poor devil had died in the night. Seaman could see the lifeless form slumped over the oar, chained for who knows how long. The evil creature retrieved a huge key, thrust it into the lock, and twisted. The chains fell off with a loud clanging sound. The creature grabbed the poor man or woman—it was impossible to tell which—by the scruff of the neck and proceeded to drag the lifeless body out the door.
Shortly thereafter, he heard a loud splash and coarse evil laughter from the creatures that were the crew.
P
Seaman remembered the promise he made to his mother and groaned again. The bitterness of the memory cut him deeply.
“Why didn’t I listen?” he said to no one in particular.
Sweat dripping off his nose, Seaman stifled another groan. He knew that if he made too much noise, he might attract attention, and that was always bad.
He had received a brutal beating soon after being thrust into the dark hold and chained to his seat shortly after his arrival. Seaman had learned the hard way to keep his mouth shut and endure every hardship in silence. His mind began to wander to the past again; thoughts taunted him as he remembered how, little by little, every act of disobedience brought him to this place of pain, shame, and degradation.
P
“You will let me pass, creature!” shouted an unfamiliar voice
Seaman jerked upright, startled by the noise.
“You cannot hinder me!” The voice was firm and authoritative. “The One True Lord has sent me; move aside in His mighty name!”
Seaman heard growling, hissing, and thumping, then a shuffling sound as one or more of the creatures that were the crew moved aside to allow someone to proceed on deck.
Curious, thought Seaman, I wonder who can command such authority over these creatures. I pray he or she can do something for us.
Seaman didn’t realize that his prayer was soon to be answered in a remarkable way.
There were more sounds, more footsteps; Seaman’s ears registered the sound of a key in the lock of the door to the ship’s hold. The door scraped across the wood, hinges creaking as the door slowly opened.
At first, Seaman couldn’t see anything; his eyes were unable to perceive light from sitting in darkness for so long. He did, however, detect a pleasant smell and a refreshing breeze as it floated through the slimy hold.
Unusual, he thought to himself. No fresh breeze had ever entered the hold before when the door opened.
His ears heard footsteps slowly walking down the aisle. He detected what he thought was a voice but couldn’t quite make out what it was saying. He strained his ears to hear.
“Seaman!”
I must be dreaming, Seaman said to himself.
Then he heard it again.
“Seaman! Seaman!”
The voice was getting louder with each repetition of his name.
“Is someone there?” he asked aloud, half afraid it was only his tortured mind playing tricks with him again. Seaman heard footsteps move quickly toward him.
“Are you Seaman?” asked the voice.
“Yyyyeeeessss,” Seaman said rather hesitantly.
“Seaman, what is in your hands?” the voice asked.
Seaman thought it was a curious question. Why would someone board this evil ship with such determination and confront the vile creatures only to ask him what was in his hands? It was obvious the only thing in his hands was the oar he had been chained to for so long.
“Seaman, what is that in your hands?” the voice repeated the question, this time with a little more emphasis.
Seaman couldn’t resist what the voice was saying. He looked down…there was the all too familiar wooden handle of the oar he had been chained to, worn smooth from the repetition of the movement of his and countless other calloused hands.
“An oar handle,” Seaman replied almost inaudibly.
“What is written on the handle?” asked the voice.
“What’s written on the handle?” questioned Seaman aloud.
How odd, all these curious questions! Seaman leaned forward and looked closer. Words began to manifest themselves before his eyes. He could tell the words were etched so deeply into the handle that nothing would ever be able to eliminate them.
“I don’t know,” Seaman lied to himself as much as to the voice asking the questions.
“What words are written there?” The voice was still pleasant but firm, demanding an answer.
Seaman glanced away, unable to bear the sight.
“Don’t be afraid, face it,” the voice urged him.
Seaman looked again at the oar handle; it pained him to see what was written there. Before his eyes was a written account of his life; every sin he had ever committed, every act of disobedience, every lie and evil thought he had ever thought was firmly and deeply etched into the wood of the oar handle. Seaman knew those words were deeply etched into his soul as well.
“Now that you’ve faced the sins of your past, Seaman, do you want to be free of this place?” asked the voice.
“Free?” Seaman said with doubt in his voice. “I can never be free,” he said dejectedly with such sorrow and sadness that he began to weep.
“That is a lie they want you to believe,” the voice emphatically replied, gesturing toward the creature standing near the door. The creature never took its eyes from Seaman’s face.
His eyes now adjusted to the light; Seaman could perceive the face of the voice; it was the face of a man. There was something different about this man; a light showed from the man’s eyes; a light Seaman had never seen before.
“It’s not true, Seaman. It’s not true at all. You can be free if you want to be,” the man explained.
“But how is that possible?” Seaman asked. Seaman knew all too well the sins he had freely committed.
“All things are possible with the One True Lord,” the man replied.
The man’s voice held such promise that the faintest glimmer of hope began to shine almost imperceptibly in Seaman’s heart.
“I wish I could believe that,” Seaman replied with remorse in his voice.
“It is possible if you have faith and believe,” the man said, carefully pleading with Seaman.
“Believe in what?” Seaman asked. “I would like to believe I can be free, but how? What must I do?”
“Not what but who,” said the man. “There is a price to be paid for sin, but your freedom is a gift from the One True Lord, who loves you immeasurably.
“Who is this One True Lord?” Seaman asked. “Never heard of Him.”
“He’s heard of you, Seaman. He knows you and loves you,” the man replied. “He paid the price for your sins long ago, paid the price for all the sins you saw on the handle of the oar. He alone has the power to save you. Confess your sins to Him. Believe that He loves you and paid the price by dying in your place. Confess and believe with all your heart, and you will walk with me out that door never to return, never to be a captive of sin again.”
The voice spoke with such strength and authority that Seaman found himself beginning to hope that it just might be possible to be freed from this place of agony and torment.
“The Father of the One True Lord sent Him to die on a cross long ago for your sins,” the man continued. “Your sins, Seaman, as if you were the only person alive. He loves you that much! He did it so that you would no longer have to carry your sins, to be enslaved by them. He did it for you…you, Seaman. He has a plan and a purpose for your life. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. You can be free. If the One True Lord sets you free, you are free indeed. Trust me, I’m telling you the truth,” the man was lovingly urging him.
“But what must I do?” asked Seaman.
“Confess your sins to the One True Lord,” reminded the man. “Confess that you freely chose to sin each of the sins you see before you on the oar handle. They have made you a slave to this ship and its crew. Admit to the One True Lord that you have freely sinned against Him, that you are helpless, and that you can do nothing to save yourself. Tell Him that you believe He alone has the power to rescue you and that you believe with all your heart that He has paid the price, and you will be free.”
“That’s it?” Seaman couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It seemed all too easy.
“Yes, that is all you have to do,” replied the man. “But before you make your choice, realize what that means and what it does not mean. It means that you can no longer go back to the life of sin you used to live. It means that you must learn how to live in a relationship with Him, not out of fear but out of love, because of the great price He chose to endure on your behalf. If you do that, your heart and mind will be so changed that you will no longer want to live for yourself but for Him.”
“Sounds like I’m just exchanging one slave master for another,” Seaman replied suspiciously.
“In a way, that is true,” replied the man. “But don’t you think it would be better to be a slave to Him than a slave here? I can tell you from my own experience that you will not regret the choice to serve Him.”
“How do you know whether I will regret it or not?” Seaman asked sarcastically.
“Because I was once like you,” the man replied. “I once sat where you are now, chained to an oar, weighed down with similar sins. I thought there was no hope, and I despaired of ever seeing the light of day again or ever having hope in my heart. Then, one dark day, I cried aloud and asked if someone cared. That same day someone came to me, just as I now come to you. This person gave me the same words of hope that I am relaying to you. I believed and was saved. I came here today because He heard your cry. He gave me orders to come to you and explain His offer of pardon for your sins. He paid the price in full. I have your release papers, and I have His authority to set you free; you can leave with me if you choose to.”
Seaman sat for a few moments in silence. He didn’t know what to think. He wanted to believe what the man was saying to him, but it was hard. He hated this place, but he knew that if he accepted this gift, he would have to change; he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to change so completely or even how to begin. That was unknown territory, and it frightened him. He didn’t know the One True Lord the man was telling him about.
Who is He? Is He good? Seaman questioned in his mind. If He’s good, where has He been all this time I’ve been sitting here in misery? Why didn’t He prevent me from boarding this ship in the first place? Why didn’t He do something earlier to save me?
Yet somehow, in his heart of hearts, deep down, Seaman knew the voice was telling him the truth.
“The One True Lord and His Father love you unconditionally,” the man said. “Your debt has been paid in full.”
That struck a note with Seaman. He dearly loved his earthly father, but his father was rarely around. He didn’t know what it was like to have a father who was always there and loved him unconditionally, but he knew he desperately wanted that. Seaman knew the voice was telling him the truth, but Seaman began to feel doubt and hear whispers.
“Lies! Lies! The man is telling you lies. All lies! You’ll never be free! You’re beyond help! You’re a worthless wretch, and you know it!” hissed the voices in Seaman’s head. “You don’t deserve to be happy! You’ll never get out of here alive! You belong to us! We own you! Remember you freely chose to join us!”
Fear and doubt began to escalate in Seaman’s heart.
“I know you are afraid,” said the man. “You may even be hearing voices telling you that you can’t be free. These are the voices of the forces of evil, the evil that brought you to this place. These creatures want you to remain their captive. Don’t listen to them; they only want to keep you enslaved. You can be free. Believe in the One True Lord. I am His servant, and He sent me here to help you leave this place.”
Strength began to slowly coarse through Seaman’s veins as the revelation of the truth of the words spoken to him began to seep into his soul. With great effort, Seaman carefully stood to his feet. His knees began to wobble, but he felt a hand on his shoulder gently steadying him.
“I believe!” Seaman said aloud firmly but with faltering voice. “I believe what you’re telling me. I’m a sinner in these chains, and I can’t get out. I believe the One True Lord paid the price for my sins, and I freely choose to serve Him from this day forward.”
And with that, the chains fell from his hands and feet. Seaman heard them clang loudly as they hit the wooden deck. He felt someone place an arm around his back, supporting and guiding him. Together they walked toward the door of the ship’s hull.
Seaman felt something gently caress him as he passed through the Veil of Mercy and Grace. Seaman headed out the door of the ship’s hold, and, for the first time in a long time, Seaman stepped into the light of day and into freedom.