Boats in the Street

I've been reading a book by Jess Walter called 'Beautiful Ruins'. It's about people whose lives cross for different reasons and the beautiful and dysfunctional relationships that are built at those crossing places. I'm about half way through and despite it doing what many books do these days and jumping from place to place and year to year I am engrossed and understand who relates to who and kind of why. It speaks about how we put up with what we have because it is familiar or because we want to make atonement for disappointing people or because we know no better than to act in the way we do. 

One of the main characters in the book is a film director called Michael Deane. Where I am up to currently he is portrayed as a bit of an idiot but with an intriguing past - a past he doesn't appear to want to reveal but comes to hit him in the face again and again. He has a fierce loyalty to people he has met, giving them the opportunity to try and make something of their film ideas (although rejecting too many) and providing space for them to be heard out (even if only by his assistant). 

We first meet Michael Deane when he is in Rome creating a film. He shows the man who has sought him out (Pasquale) the 'Sinking boat fountain' or the Fontana della Barcaccia which is in a square that used to get flooded often before river walls were built. After one such flood in the 16th Century a boat was left behind. The boat was simply dumped randomly in the disaster and the artist who created the fountain has captured some of that. 

Michael Deane shows Pasquale the fountain and says this (thinking about the mistake Pasquale has come to confront him with):

'.... sometimes there is no explanation for the things that happen. Sometimes a boat simply appears on a street. And as odd as it may seem, one has no choice but to deal with the fact that there's suddenly a boat on the street.'

This struck me as I read it this morning. In trying to understand what happens in life, we try and analyse and bring logic into the situation. This boat - the explanation was there - the flood - the waters going, leaving it behind. Yet why there and why then? We get stuck looking at the boat and wonder what would have happened if it had been different, but what we've got to deal with is the fact that the boat is there and even when it has been dismantled and taken away, the memory of the boat is left behind, as in the fountain. 

How do we deal with it? 

Sometimes it's not trying to understand and accepting that the boat needs to be walked away from. 

Sometimes it's taking the boat apart, bit by bit and building something new from the materials. 

Sometimes it's remembering the devastation left by the boat, coming back to it occasionally, but not letting it distract us. 

Sometimes it's simply accepting that the boat is there, that we'll have to continue to deal with it, that we'll never know why, but that that is OK.

One of my favourite disciples is Peter. In Matthew 14 we read the story of Jesus walking on the water and calling to Peter to 'come'. Peter does, but then he doubts and he calls out for help. Jesus gently tells him off for not believing that he could come to him. As we deal with the boats in the street and try and do it alone, we've got to remember that Jesus says 'come' - and one step at a time we might make the boat less of an influence as with each step we trust in him just that little bit more that he knows (that he is) the way.... and..... what we don't understand is in his hands and he carries it for us in our confusion and hurt.