"A ship is manned by a crew. The good crew will know what its captain would do."

This is what a friend of mine told me once. He'd heard it from an old Chinese man in a dream he had. For weeks he puzzled over that declaration. I've been kicking it around for three years, sometimes certain of its meaning and sometimes baffled by its simplicity.

I can't recall the details of the dream this friend of mine had, but I do know that it had something to do with a deeply personal question asked by many of us: "In which direction should I point my life?"

I suspect that every human being is faced with that question at one time or another; it's a mark of maturity to ask it. Before we can embark on a journey through life based on fullfilling selfish desires or working to serve others, a choice has to be made. But which one? Self or selflessness?

It's a serious question to ask and its eventual answer is just as important. The answer defines what type of person it is that asks. The utter simplicity of it is that the answer already exists before the query ever surfaces. The way to glean the answer is by letting go of it.

From one perspective:
The ship or vessel is the man himself, coasting upon the waters of life.
The crew is the soul of a man, which works upon the ship to give it direction, maintains it and gives it purpose.
The captain is God- or the man's personal relationship to Him, which gives the crew its orders and trusts the crew to perform for the sake of the ship.

A ship is manned by a crew. The good crew will know what its captain would do.

The captain trusts the crew, the crew trusts the captain, and the ship trusts both crew and captain. Without the necessity of trust, or faith, all three are devoid of purpose, meaning or even the possibility of survival. In trust lies the goodness of the crew- and the captain.

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