| In the first decade in my adopted homeland, I had the pleasure of living in a picturesque, medieval city. This seaside town is centred around the mouth of a river which flows from a very large lake to the north. The lake is famous for the beauty of its many islands and for its fishing. It’s also notorious for its sudden and violent storms. Something about the geography of the area funnels and amplifies the weather, causing a rapid onset of dangerous waves that have quickly swamped boats and claimed lives. |  Stormy Weather Ahead |
I have read many times about another similar situation that happened in a different location, where a moderately sized fishing boat with a full crew was overtaken by a night storm and nearly went down. Thankfully, no lives were lost. But the survivors reported large waves washing over the open boat, fishing equipment floating away in the dark, and nearly every man aboard struggling to keep the ship afloat. Most of the passengers were experienced fishermen and had battled storms before, but this one had them fearing for their lives.
I was reminded of these events recently when a friend shared details of her new job promotion. She will now be in charge of multiple teams in widespread time zones, and the added responsibility both at work and at home is daunting. As I read her description of the work and reaction to the challenge, I thought about those boats and the stormy conditions as a fitting analogy to the events of life.
To borrow a metaphor from ballad-writer Johnny Duhan, imagine with me that Life is an ocean upon which we sail our own boats. Through that journey, we must navigate wide ranging conditions — some are pleasant, some downright treacherous. At times, I myself have charted a course through balmy, tropical seas, with an abundance of life surrounding me. But, there have been many occasions where I’ve languished in the hot doldrums: parched to the bone, with no momentum. Storms have left me tossed about, cold and bedraggled. I have lost passengers. I have at times despaired for my life.
And yet, my little ship sails on. For me, that is possible because of the Pilot I invited on board over forty-five years ago. Yes, I am speaking of the Lord Jesus, in Whom I placed my faith. He never promised “plain sailing”, or Heaven on Earth. God lets the things of this life take their course for now. But He has promised to sustain and strengthen me as I sail through the hard times. And He rejoices with me through the good ones. The account of the second boat I mentioned above teaches me this.
I am speaking, of course, of the Bible account of the Stilling of the Storm, recounted in Matthew 8:23-27 and Mark 4:35-41. From an earthly standpoint, these experienced fishermen had reason to fear. They knew what storms could do, and had no doubt lost colleagues, if not friends or family, to those angry waves. But this time, they had Jesus in the boat with them. That made all the difference, had they only the eyes to see it.
Their accusation that Jesus didn’t care about them showed some belief that Jesus could do something to help. After all, they had just spent several days listening to Jesus teach the Sermon on the Mount and witnessing a stream of miraculous healings. But the storm grabbed their attention—it was immediate, dangerous, overwhelming. And their vision, their faith wasn’t yet big enough to believe that Jesus was indeed capable and willing to help them through that storm and through all the difficulties of life. They were not yet able to fully rest in Jesus and be at peace even in a storm. And so, in sympathy and love, Jesus calmed the storm.
It is easier for me to “rest in Jesus” when my life is relatively uneventful. But, like many of us, I suspect, those storms of life can certainly get my attention, causing inner turmoil. How quickly I can forget all the other times my Pilot brought me through other storms. Thankfully, as I sail through Life, I remember more and more quickly the truth of the boat on troubled waters, and then find my peace again.
Jesus does care about every aspect of our lives. Remember that even when He was sleeping, Jesus’ companions were safe. Uncomfortable, but safe. Was it significant perhaps that Jesus was sleeping in the stern, near the tiller that guides the boat? I don’t know. But I do know that no matter what storms rage around us, no matter how hopeless our circumstances seem, so too can we depend on the Lord Jesus to give us peace as He guides our lives, sustains us through trouble, and also gives us respite when we need it.
My promoted friend had the right response to the demands of her new position. She recognised the difficulties ahead as well as the blessings, and affirmed her desire to look to God for help in both work and personal life. She said, “I know without God I wouldn't even consider it. I know I fully rely on His strength. . .”
I will leave you with a favourite hymn, written by Priscilla J. Owens -- We Have an Anchor
| Will your anchor hold in the storms of life, When the clouds unfold their wings of strife? When the strong tides lift and the cables strain, Will your anchor drift, or firm remain? Refrain: We have an anchor that keeps the soul Steadfast and sure while the billows roll, Fastened to the Rock which cannot move, Grounded firm and deep in the Savior’s love. It is safely moored, ’twill the storm withstand, For ’tis well secured by the Savior’s hand; And the cables, passed from His heart to mine, Can defy that blast, through strength divine. It will surely hold in the straits of fear, When the breakers have told that the reef is near; Though the tempest rave and the wild winds blow, Not an angry wave shall our bark o’erflow. It will firmly hold in the floods of death, When the waters cold chill our latest breath; On the rising tide it can never fail, While our hopes abide within the Veil. When our eyes behold through the gath’ring night The city of gold, our harbor bright, We shall anchor fast by the heav’nly shore, With the storms all past forevermore. |
Life is an Ocean
| P. S. A friend just shared a poem with me, written by missionary to India Amy Carmichael, and I must add it to this post. The Age-Long Minute Amy Carmichael Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow, Thou art the Lord who soothed the furious sea, What matter beating wind and tossing billow If only we are in the boat with Thee? Hold us quiet through the age-long minute While Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill: Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, art in it; Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will? |
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