Mike Huber brought this message to the meeting on 24 January 1999. Please email us your comments and questions!

Scripture Reading:
John 3:1-8

Lost in Space

Message Files / Archive / WHF

Immediately, the computer inside his helmet booted to life. A medical read-out appeared along the edge of his visor. In a single column, Nic could see his pulse rate, his blood pressure, his temperature, everything. And everything appeared normal.

After a few seconds, the computer replaced this display with a diagnostic on the suit itself. The suit had plenty of oxygen. The power supply was fully charged and ready. Every seal and buckle was secure.

Thus informed, Nic stepped inside the airlock. He could feel a vibration through the soles of his boots. Without turning around, he knew that the inner door was sliding to a close. Soon, the outer door would open like a lens, and he would be free to exit the space ship.

While the airlock decompressed, Nic pressed a button on his belt to repeat the computer's diagnostic display. His heart rate and his breathing were up from before, but still acceptable. The computer continued to show plenty of air and plenty of power in the suit itself. By nature, Nic was terribly cautious. And so, just to be sure, Nic checked the back-up dials on his wrist. All the indicators were well into the green.

The overhead light flashed a warning. A pre-recorded voice alerted anyone who cared to listen: “Attention. This chamber will be exposed to the vacuum of space in 10 seconds. Attention. This chamber will be exposed to the vacuum of space in 5 seconds. 4. 3. 2. 1.”

Nic watched his pulse rise as the outer doors came open. Moving awkwardly in the magnetic boots, Nic walked towards the edge of space.

* * *

From outside the ship, the airlock door looked like the center of a spider's web. Cables radiated from the door like spokes. That way, when you left the sanctuary of the ship, you could tether yourself to one of the cables. It was one more precaution against the vast emptiness of space.

Nic tethered himself to the appropriate cable and stepped out onto the outer hull. The sudden shift in horizon filled him with gut-wrenching vertigo. His heart rate went ballistic and his breathing became shallow and quick.

Staring at his feet, Nic waited for the dizziness to pass. “Easy there,” he said to himself. Easy does it.”

Walking slowly, carefully, Nic set himself in motion. Step after deliberate step, he moved towards the primary sensor array. The sensor array rose like a radio tower from the outer hull. When he finally arrived at that structure, Nic would have to transfer his tether. He would have to sever his connection with outer hull and tether himself instead to the new set of cables that ran up and down the sensor array.

At last, Nic finished his journey across the hull. Standing there at the base of the sensor array, Nic swallowed his fear and wrapped the fingers of his left hand around a metal support beam. His grip felt insecure through the bulky glove, but it was the best he could do.

After making sure the magnetic boots were well-anchored to the metal hull, Nic used his right hand to transfer the tether from one cable to the next.

With a sigh of relief, Nic cut power to the magnetic boots.

Hand over hand, he pulled himself up the length of the sensor array. Nic had to travel more than 15 meters up the array before he found what he was looking for. It was the number three vector-scope. Something had completely corroded the instrument's metal casing, leaving the inner mirrors and wires exposed.

“Now that's odd,” Nic thought to himself. It would be fairly easy to make the repairs. But what had caused this damage in the first place? It was only then that Nic noticed signs of corrosion on other bits of metal. “Something is wrong here,” Nic said to himself. “Something is very wrong.”

Toggling his radio, Nic made his report to the captain. “Sir, I've found the problem,” he said. “I can have it fixed in less than 30 minutes. But I'm afraid I've uncovered something more. There are signs of corrosion up and down the sensor array.”

Nic released the radio toggle to hear his captain's reply. There was only silence.

“Captain, come in please.”

Silence.

“Edison? Come in, Edison.”

Nic let his gaze travel down the sensor array towards the ship. But no ship was there. The sensor array had broken clean away! Nic twisted wildly to search for the missing ship. At last, he saw it above his head. It was at least 200 meters away.

Instinctively — with both hands — Nic grabbed the tether around his waist. It held him securely. But it held him to a piece of debris.

The ship was 200 meters away! And it was spinning... No! The sensor array was spinning. It drifted further and further from the ship in a slow, lazy spiral.

“Edison!” Nic screamed into his radio. “Help me! Please! Please, dear God! Don't leave me here.”

But Nic knew that his voice would travel no further than his own ears. Without the primary sensor array, the ship was deaf and nearly blind. Using the secondary array, it could signal its distress. With luck, it could navigate its way to a more populated area of space. But it would never accomplish anything as delicate as a rescue. Nic was simply too small to be noticed anymore.

He was lost. The computer inside his helmet projected a warning onto the his field of view. “Danger: Subject shows signs of extreme duress. Seek immediate medical care. Seek immediate medical care.”

And then, everything went black.

* * *

Eventually, Nic's eyes fluttered open. He twisted around to search for the ship, but it was nowhere to be found. “They left me,” he said to himself. He felt so alone that he wrapped his arms around the sensor array and held on tight. His last remaining fear was that he would come loose from even this inadequate mooring and drift completely alone in the vacuum of space. He held the flotsam with all his might. It was all he had left.

“Urgent:” the computer flashed another warning before his eyes, “Oxygen reserves have fallen below 25%”

Nic tried to slow his breathing. He forced himself to hold his breath after each intake of air. After emptying his lungs, he forced himself to wait before drawing another breath.

Never before had he focused so completely on his breathing. Never before had he been so grateful for each breath.

Nic closed his eyes and tried to let each breath carry some of the fear away. Then, even though his eyes were closed, he could perceive a change in lighting. No doubt, the computer was trying to chronicle his slow passage into death. “I wonder what it is this time?” Nic thought to himself. “Am I showing signs of dehydration? Or has my oxygen supply dwindled past another milestone?”

Nic allowed his eyes to drift open.

Nic expected the message to begin with something like “Danger” or “Warning.” Instead, the message read, “Untether yourself. Push yourself away from the debris.” In spite of himself, Nic drew in a deep breath of surprise.

He shook his head and pushed a button to clear the screen. “It must be the lack of oxygen,” he said to himself. “I'm starting to hallucinate.” Once again, he tried to control his breathing. He drew in a breath and held it.

And once again, a message appeared on the screen. It read, “Please comply. Push yourself away from the debris.”

Nic cleared the screen and tightened his grip on the sensor array. His mind went white with fear at the thought of drifting completely alone. To be alone in all the vastness of space... To have nothing... To feel nothing in your hands or beneath your feet... To be adrift.... It was too horrible to imagine.

“No, no, no, no,” he said to himself.

The screen lit up again. “You are spinning erratically on a large piece of debris. We will not be able to launch a rescue until you are clear. Please comply.”

Although he knew it was impossible, Nic twisted around to look for a rescue ship. He found one over his left shoulder.

“No. It's a dream,” Nic warned himself. “It can't be real. How could they access the computer inside my space suit? How could they find me in the first place? It's a dream. It's only a dream. If I let go of the sensor array, then I lose everything. If I let go, then I am completely adrift.”

Nic held himself against the sensor array with the grip of a miser, so that he could feel its pressure against his chest. He shut his eyes tightly and refused to open them.

And then, he heard a voice. “Please comply. For heaven's sake, man! Cut yourself loose!”

“NO!” Nic shouted back. Out of habit, he toggled the radio switch. “I will not let go! I will not step out into nothing. If you are real.... then you — you come to me. When I can feel that you are solid, then I will trust what you say.”

“It's not going to work that way,” answered the voice. “I'm solid alright, but you must cross the void if you want to feel for yourself. You must let go so you can find me.”

* * *

Nicodemus came to see Jesus under the cover of darkness. You see, the Pharisee had a reputation to uphold. After all, this man was a member of the Jewish ruling council. But in spite of his position in society, Nicodemus was intrigued. And so, he wanted to learn more — but he wanted to do it without putting anything in jeopardy. He wanted to learn more without risking anything he had already attained.

Nicodemus came to see Jesus under the cover of darkness.

But Jesus said, “It isn't going to work that way, Nic. If you want to see the Kingdom of God, then you must take a wild leap. There's no gradual process. There's no safe way to do it. You must accept the risk.

It's a wild leap into the unknown. It's like being born again. Who knows where you'll end up? Who knows which way the wind will blow? That's the way it is. You have to surrender your sense of control.

Too often, we cling to the security of what is familiar. Like Nic, we are anchored to a structure that spins out of control. We are anchored to a structure that can take us nowhere. We know that it cannot sustain us. And yet we are afraid to let go because what we have feels more substantial than what might be.

* * *

“I will not step into the void,” Nic insisted. “I will not.”

“You are having a conversation with a voice inside your helmet,” answered the voice. “Either I am here to save you or you are so far gone that it doesn't matter any more what you do. Either way, cut the tether.”

“No. I....”

“Cut the tether.”

“But...”

“Cut the tether.”

Just to silent that persistent voice, Nic released the tether and drifted out into space. Moments later, he was on board the rescue vessel. He opened his eyes to see someone smiling down at him through his visor.

“I'm glad you did that,” said the voice. “I was afraid I was going to have let that spinning piece of debris kill me before you would accept I was real.”

“You'd do that?” Nic asked.

“I've done it before,” the voice answered. “Now, let's see if we can get you out of that shell.”