When God Speaks

Where am I? I don’t remember how I got here. Fragments of memories run through my mind. Not quite complete pictures, glimpses of events I must have been involved in yet can’t remember, pieces of things but not complete images race through my head. As hard as I try I can’t hold onto them. It’s like the wind, you know it’s there but just as you reach out to grab it something happens and it slips quickly away. So with these images racing through my head. Just when I believe I have captured one I look and all that’s left are fragments. Fragments I cannot put together like oil in my palm when opened the only thing I’m grasping is emptiness. This emptiness causes the fear to expand and I’m left shivering and frightened more than I can handle.

What I do remember is a boat sinking with people screaming and yelling for someone to help. The cries are left unanswered yet the panic remains. Then, blackness envelopes me and time stands still. I awake on a beach with a beautiful landscape. My clothes are wet and I’m all alone. This island, this place holds it’s secrets close. Not sure the day or how long I’ve been shipwrecked I realize that I am this islands sole inhabitant. No others will join me here, this I know is true. Then, fear comes over me in ways I never knew stripping me bare and stealing my breath. Gasping and crying all at once I race to the water breaking free from fear’s clutches. I’m all alone and there will be no company so I must find a way to survive this place.

Not knowing how long I’ve been away I scan my surroundings looking for hope. Hope in whatever shape it may appear I have to form a bond with this lonely place. I spot a cabin, more like a shack , but nasty words coming from me I doubt will help. Pushing those words deep down inside I walk to this building hoping for answers. As I draw close I begin to sob realizing the word old is not even close to the condition my dwelling stands before me. Whatever I thought this shack would provide is not even close to the actual truth. I walk through an opening where a door once hung and make up my mind I will make it work. At least it’s a roof over my head and the walls will protect me when sleep takes over. I find loose boards lying around and fashion them together to make a door. Thank God for my Dad who taught me some things out back of our house in his carpenter’s shop. I tidy the place as best I can then set out to find a source of food.

This island is quiet holding secrets close but it provides me with fruits of all different kinds. Banana trees, mango and grapefruit as well are just the beginnings of the treasures ahead. Coconut trees filled completely with fruit and I give thanks for the water they will provide. I find berries, sugarcane, and edible plants. So much here yet it will waste away. I fill a bag I found lying inside with fruits and plants and coconuts, too. Four trips I make so the cupboards are full, then I must try to make a fire somehow.

This fire wouldn’t ignite to offer a glimmer of hope. I tried and tried for hours I know. Finally exhaustion begins to take over and I retire inside my home for the night. I make a bed from soft leaves outside. Not a bed to brag about, but it will serve it’s purpose. As I lie down for the night the temperature changes quickly dropping until my bones were cold. Closing my eyes I voice tomorrow’s plan and before I know it sleep takes over. Trembling with cold running through my body I vow to find warmth somehow, somewhere.

Opening my eyes I see sun streaming in through the many cracks in the walls of the shack. I jump to my feet to begin my day. So much to do and I’m still alone. I walk to a window and scan the horizon trying to form a plan for the day ahead. As I pass by the door I glance to my left and oh my goodness I find a prize. 6 books of matches just lying there. How could I have missed these yesterday? All 6 books completely dry and all full spare 3 or 4. The people before me must have left them behind. Thank God for them and their gift to me. Giddiness takes over for a brief moment as I search the remainder of my most gracious home. I find old blankets smelly and dirty, but water is in abundance here on Solitary Island. I walk to the beach for laundry day stripping my clothes off so they can join the blankets for clean up day. Running naked here is quite simply ok. As I told you before this island won’t talk. It holds it’s secrets close to its heart. Laundering here is a little work, but I won’t complain one single ounce. I find trees that offer their services by holding my garments up off the sand. I swim for a while and nap on the beach, but suddenly I remember seeing a fishing pole inside. I’m not sure it works but protein I must try for and with matches now part of my loot I can make a fire and cook up some seafood. I start the fire and keep it stoked then grab the pole and off I go. I sit for hours without one nibble, but I refuse to give up, that’s the stubbornness in me.

Funny how I used to dream of quiet times with no others around me but having received this as reality I realize how terrible a dream it was. The quietness, the aloneness, the fear, and so much more surround me at all times. They have become my constant companions.

The island is beautiful, but when shared with no one it’s beauty seems trivial. The white sandy beaches that surround the island are breathtaking. The trees, lush and green, filled with so many different tropical fruits keep me fed and fed well. The coconuts supply my water for now and a homemade fishing pole left inside the hut will work for the protein I need. I have never been one to camp so building a fire took several days to learn, but thankfully the person here before me left boxes of matches as if they knew I would be arriving soon and be in need of them.

I awake each morning early according to the sun and scour the island looking for hope of some kind. I will know hope when I see it, but for now my hope of leaving this island remains just that – hope. I fish some, I scour the island some, I lay on the sandy beach wondering what to do. I sometimes at night look into the sky watching the stars twinkle and shine.

I swim at times and wash the only clothes I have in the sparkling waters off the beach. Things once that were necessities such as a toothbrush, hair brush, soap and other items are now considered luxuries instead. I work with what I have and am so grateful for the things I have. I guess if anything this experience has taught me is to be grateful for the things I have.

I miss people, companionship, more than anything. It gets lonely here at times and the space I so earnestly wished for before has long since been filled. I earnestly wish for people, lots of people, to surround me constantly. Never again will I wish I could have space. It isn’t what it is cracked up to be. No, we need people in our lives. We must have people in our lives. Ones to share with, to laugh with, to cry with, to anything with – people are a necessity for our lives to be complete.

Solitary Island I have presumed is for those of us who need a lesson in life’s important things. Beached here teaches a person a lot of things. I guess different people need different lessons and this island provides those lessons or should. For me I can say with certainty that Solitary Island, as beautiful as it is, is just a stop in the road for a lesson to be learned, a much needed one. We are not made to walk this life alone. We need each other with all the things that come with each person. What a lonely world this would be if only I existed. Who to share the beautiful things in life with? Who to share my fears that need quieted and understood? Who to feel my pain when a shoulder to cry on is needed? Who to share a laugh much needed at times with? We were made to need one another whether it be receiving or giving something, we all need another person for all things in life.

I have learned a much needed lesson here and will remember it well all the days of my life left. Now, to find a way off Solitary Island. Hope to see you soon.