Charting the migration of a Bible:  Richards Bay, Port Louis, Colombo, Singapore, Hong-Kong, Shanghai and then a U-turn.    Shanghai, Ho Chi Minh City, then Chennai and Djibouti. Pirates, pirates, pirates, pirates, Suez, Piraeus, Barcelona... Marseille.  Now Lisbon. Atlantic Ocean, a terrifying storm, waves as high as mountains, breaking over the bridge of the ship. New York.  Rio de Janeiro. Engine trouble. Buenos Aires and another U-turn. Now Panama channel. Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle. All aboard infected with some germ. Tokyo. Four days from a doctor. Hello Shanghai. Three trips to Perth, Lagos or perhaps around the Cape. Then back to Richards Bay. Then again, and again, and again and again, until this very moment:

 ‘Sir’, with a massive smile and open arms. ‘Sir, it is so nice to see you again!’ honestly, excited, a surprise that a reunion is possible after so many years. ‘It has been twelve years, Sir’, he says with a wide smile, big eyes and a lot of excitement.   

 Loffie cannot believe that a man working at sea, whom he met twelve years ago is standing in front of him. For Loffie the first meeting twelve years ago was not a remarkable meeting and he has to search in the recesses of memory to find the right connection and remember the situation. 

For the seaman the memory comes easily, because the day was remarkable for him. He has to show Loffie something he says, just before storming excitedly and inspiringly into the bowels of the ship. He returns in a moment with something that looks like a very old Bible. The clean pages have not been clean in a long time and the corners are dog-eared and well touched. The Bible contains photos of everything important in the man’s life - everything he prays for each day. On the first page is a date, written in blue ink, with the word ‘Richards Bay’ and a faded stamp of the CSO.  

We chart a full circle to trace the migration of a Bible. For a moment we are reminded of the travels that this Bible accompanied. Just think about pirates, storms, sadness, joy. Think about health and illness. Think about bitter longing. Also remember the absolute joy when you are reunited with those reflected in the pictures, when you are received with open arms and tears of joy.

This is the journey of a single Bible. Would it not be fantastic if we could trace the hundreds of Bibles the CSO places in the care of so many hands at sea each year? How wonderful would it be to trace the migration to the corners of the world?  How fantastic would it be to record each story?  

Now Loffie sits with a friend, sharing coffee and talking about twelve years, the ebb and flow of life, while the seaman (now a friend) bears witness that the Bible, that Bible, helped him each moment to cling to God.

When you decide to stay part of the CSO family, you become involved in something valuable and unbelievable. You become involved in serving Jesus Christ’s mercy, peace and love to reach, literally the ends of earth. Please consider supporting us again - in prayer and deed!

PS. Our bank details are: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226. Here is the link for the debit order: https://bit.ly/43khwDO

Carl’s story is bitter-sweet. Looking back at a career spanning decades, there is the sweet of a thousand adventures working at sea, over the length and width of the globe. He could write a book about exploring foreign and exotic destinations across the world, places most of us can only dream about.

 But, the bitter is choleric. He is almost due for a home visit after about nine months at sea. Years of not being there tempered the expectations of his family and it changed him into the uncle that sends a monthly cheque in the mail. His not being there normalised to a situation where he is simply an essential addition to his family and their existence. When he voices this realisation, his face betrays the deep hurt of his own words.   

The sadness of missing a life with his children is overwhelming, now after so many years. This time he will return home to a house where only his wife remains. Their last and third child just left home to start his own life. For years Carl believed that there would be an opportunity to spend more quality time with his family, but it never came. There was always another account to be paid, or an urgent reason why he had to cut short his holiday and return to the ship.

Suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, the hourglass is empty. Although he has a good relationship with his family, their conversations and chats are based more on duty than pleasure. It is superficial. All know that dad will return to foreign shores in a few days only to return for a blitz visit months later.     

‘If only...’ is the self-recrimination and despair. ‘If I could only sacrifice each adventure for a second chance...’ he wishes. With every sentence the bitter intensifies.

Nico of the CSO listens quietly to Carl’s story. Without judgement or blame, Nico can ask the right questions. He can open the door to other possibilities just a fraction. He can convince him that hope remains, because Nico knows that the Man on the Cross, the Man that gave his life for each of us, gives second chances. Despite Carl’s challenges and self-recrimination, there is a bigger presence with him, to walk with him, comfort him and offer him guidance - if he were to open his heart for this. Nico offers him another perspective to consider for a moment. Sometimes unbelievable new things grow from total hopelessness.  

When they say goodbye, Carl smiles because - also if it is just for a moment - he believes that he had started on a road to healing and self-discovery despite his sadness.  

Our donors give us at the CSO each day an unbelievable chance to listen to the men working at sea and their stories. We can remind them, each day, of the One that always opens other doors - just when we think there is no escape. On behalf of Carl and every man working at sea, we thank you! 

EFT: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA Bank. Current. 1520-230-226

There is a loud buzz in the dining area where Chinese seamen surround Danie. A rumour, clearly per ship telegraph, spread and according to the rumour Danie, a man with many connections, is on board. He is peppered with many questions from a ten-deep crowd and every man wants to know something. It is a little chaotic, especially because of the small problem that impedes the flow of communication... language.

It is a gross understatement to say the English skills on board are limited. Danie’s Chinese skills are just as limited. He knows about five words in Chinese, covering mostly ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. It quickly transpires that the conversation is going nowhere, but they have no wish to give up. The solution is to play a little charades and Pictionary. The Chinese men talk to each other and use sign language. Two of them appear with a pencil and a little notebook. The result is definitely not in the league of Van Gogh, but the drawings do help with understanding. 

From the chatter and stick men on the dirty page, Danie finally understands that the crowd is under the impression that he sells diamonds. It is definitely a first for him. He explains and signs back to them, trying to make it clear that they have the wrong end of the stick. At last they understand that they are barking up the wrong tree and the realisation that Danie’s backpack does not contain sparkling stones clearly disappoints. The atmosphere changes visibly. The excitement has been lost. The only noises that remain are the sounds of chopsticks scraping the porcelain bowls as they finish their lunch. 

 But, Danie’s backpack does contain something important. In the silence after the stormy discussion, he unpacks the Chinese Bibles and places them one by one on a table. It is a silent invitation to something larger than normal life. As the men try to steal a view of his ‘product’ he points at the cross on his jacket badge while indicating ‘no cost, for free’.  Just like that a new door opens...  

As eager hands grab the Bibles one by one from the table, they start a new conversation - without words. It builds a bridge, not only between cultures and languages, but also between man’s heart and God’s heart. Rather than with diamonds that they so desperately want, they leave with a message of mercy, love and hope.

Your donation of to the CSO makes stories like these possible - every day. It takes the Word of God to men working at sea and these men come from all over the world. For that we thank you from our hearts, on behalf of each person touched by our work and service.

Bankacc: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA.  Cheque. 630509. Nr: 1520-230-226.

Their meeting takes place along André’s Via Dolorosa. The footsteps en route lie deeply entrenched along the road, all the way from the Ukraine. If he dares to look back for a moment, seeing the suffering along the way over the past two years, he sees the horror, the heartbreak and pain. It is glowing in his soul like a burning coal, unsympathetic and destructive.  

 André’s Via Dolorosa is about loss. In a war situation, one immediately wants to jump to the conclusion that loss refers to loss of life, to the victims of bullets and bombs. Yes, it is part of it. But, it is more. It is also about loss of self, loss of humanity, loss of everything that you once thought was important or that it had meaning.  

 War strips absolutely.  It swallows your coming and going.  The horror tracks in the rear-view mirror are one thing, but the never-ending black storm clouds on the horizon are what threaten to destroy you. You want to shout: ‘I cannot go on’. For André the reality is that his eight-year-old daughter and her mother had to stay behind in Odessa. There is no other option. The money he earns is the only hope to escape. But, to leave your child and wife behind in a war is not an easy cross to bear. Which father, which man does this? This is his guilt. 

Nico of the CSO, sits quietly and listens to André’s story. Nico is deeply aware of how cheap words could be. Any advice or recommendation he could offer the broken man in front of him would be hollow and mere symbols. He knows, however much he wants to, that he cannot understand the true depths of André’s sorrow.  With great care, without prescribing or suggesting that he, Nico, has any answers, he can tell of another man that had to walk a similar road. Along the Via Dolorosa, like a lamb, the Messiah, Jesus Christ the King, came because he loved you and me. Along the Via Dolorosa, all the way to Golgotha... Now we know what lies beyond Golgotha - an open grave.

Every meeting that we at the CSO have each day with the men working at sea, is not a wonderful tale of someone that had been changed irrevocably. More than often, when we meet such a man along his Via Dolorosa, our task with the greatest of care is to help that man take a single step forward.  Sometimes it is a step away from the ‘I cannot go on’, but at other times it is a step that gives new perspective. Sometimes it lies in the smallest thing.   One step can change everything.

Do you not want to consider, praying, supporting us financially? It will help us continue being there for the men to lean on us for a moment, to enable them to take one more step.  You can change everything.

PS. Our bank details are: Christelike Seemansorganisasie. ABSA. Current. 1520-230-226.