What I Saw from Where I Sat

by Donna Poole

There once was a whaler from Pompeii,

            Who went ashore to sashay,

            But instead went to church,

            And was forced there to perch

            For a two hour long flowery homily that went neither fore nor aft and said nothing.

            The kind old whaler probably not from Pompeii,

            Wished he had gone to sashay.

            Looked around church sooner.

            Rig was a bark not schooner.

            Its grand tonnage was packed but most of its cargo was sleeping.

            The wise old whaler definitely not from Pompeii,

            Almost stood to sashay.

            Knew the Cap’n wasn’t heard,

            Didn’t even know windward,

            He for sure didn’t have a harpoon onboard and if you aim at nothing you hit it. Always.

By me with apologies to all real poets

So, what did I see from where I sat in the hospital room last week? Once I stopped feeling like a snail too weak to pull its hinder parts back into its shell—that’s not entirely allegorical; don’t ask, I could think. I remembered a story I read early in our ministry and laughed. A whaler did go to church on shore leave and listened to a similar homily described above. As the whaler tried to slip out of church, the clergyman stopped him and asked what he thought of the sermon. Being a kind man, he wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, he responded.

“Well, matey, you had fine words, but you had no harpoon on board.”

Would you believe that story has, perhaps more than anything, shaped John’s preaching ministry and my writing? When John first graduated from college and became John Poole, BA in theology, and ThB in Bible and theology, his sermons were more informational.

When he asked me what I thought after an unusually information-only packed sermon, I’d ask him, “What was your harpoon, matey?”

I sometimes regret that question now when the harpoon touches me! And he never gets behind the pulpit without a harpoon onboard.

The same is true in my writing. Informational writing is fine if that is the writer’s goal. What’s my goal when I write? If I don’t know my goal, I’m wasting my time and yours.

So, I grinned when I thought of that story in the hospital and looked around for harpoons for you and for me. I could find some for me, but I guess you’ll have to find your own!

I found my first harpoon. It had “Jesus” written on the side. Sometimes I forget that Jesus is the hub of the wheel of my life.

I promise I’m not digressing. We saw a twelve-year old on the news who just graduated from high school and college at the same time. He’s quite the goal-driven kid!

I told John, “When I was twelve my goal was to get my cards to stay on the spokes of my bike with clip clothes pins because they made the coolest sound.”

Obviously, I was not the goal-driven kid on the news.

I loved riding my bike. But what if the hub of my bike had been off center so some spokes were longer and some shorter? You can imagine how well that tire would go around! When Jesus is the center of my life, the spokes are even. I don’t mean my life is easy or perfect. I mean things are more balanced.

So, I try to keep the main thing the main thing. Many other things matter dearly to me: family, church family, friends, my writing, my readers, finding joy, and so much more. These are my harpoons in life, my goals, the things that matter. Cancer is my great reminder that we don’t have earth-time forever, and now is when I better polish up my harpoons and stop getting tangled in the million and one nets that don’t matter.

I said you had to find your own harpoons, and so you do. But here’s what I see from where I sat in the hospital room. I see a harpoon with your name on it, because if you’re someone in my life, or just someone who reads what I write, you matter to me. That harpoon may be the most important thing I ever give you because it will prepare you for this life, and for eternity. Next to your name it has the name Jesus and John 3:16: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Notice it doesn’t say get eternal life by being a good person, or being a good Catholic, or a Baptist. There are only two names on that harpoon, your name and His. Those two are more than enough for here and forever. And that’s what I saw from where I sat.