You may not know this, but the navy has a solution for almost everything. Including emergencies. The Morse Code may be antiquated but it’s very efficient way to communicate; the most famous of all transmissions is the SOS. As in: dot, dash, dot. Save Our Souls. Many a soul on many a ship owes their life to those three simple sounds. . . . – – – . . . That’s all it takes to save a soul at sea.
I’m sure almost anyone on the planet would applaud someone saving a life, yet we take them every day. At both ends of the aging scale. In Holland, not only is it legal, it’s encouraged, to do away with older citizens; they’re a drain on society and no longer contributing nation. And babies? Well, they definitely don’t deserve rights, do they? God forbid we would ever make anyone responsible for the consequences of their choices. Is it just me, or is there a disconnect here? We’ll save the whales, even campaign to stop deforestation of the Amazon rainforests, yet we watch humanity quietly disposed of, sacrificed on the altar of convenience.
But what about my Saviour? The Lover of my soul, the Saver of my life? Did a little dash do Him? No, He gave His all for me. His blood was shed so anyone who chose would be assured an eternity in heaven. I can relate so much to this, since I’ve never done anything half-heartedly, good or bad. I’m an all-or-nothing gal at heart and occasionally living dangerously has its appeal. Calculated risks aren’t really risks, they’re opportunities. We never truly know what we really believe until it’s tested. A British statesman once said that evil prospers when good men do nothing. I pray if we ever get the chance to stand up for right, we do. He did.
Kari, the all-in gal
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