Some years ago, Rick and I boarded a ship that was sailing the Norwegian coastline, dipping into the fjords to drop off goods and passengers. One night the seas were very rough. The ship surged up and crashed down, mountainous waves over the bow. Dinner was being served, and there were understandable delays. Not being a good sailor, I excused myself and went back to our cabin where I made myself comfortable. Others left after I did; Rick remained for a nice meal. (He’s a good sailor, taking after his grandfather who sailed the seven seas on a windjammer.) Several people wore life jackets for the rest of the voyage, despite the fact no one would survive more than five minutes in the frigid Nordic Seas.
Life is often like that rocking and rolling ship. We struggle with staying on our feet, keeping a clear head, not becoming incapacitated by seasickness. A turbulent sea – a turbulent world – is frightening.
Children struggle with currents of bullying, parental expectations, school demands, pandemic isolation syndrome, physical growing and hormonal changes, adults demanding they name a gender identity and pronoun… Young adults fight riptides of stress while figuring out the best career path, getting in college or trade school, finding a job, building their social media presence, temptations of drugs and sex, loneliness. Adults tread the water employment, long work hours, facing the rising cost of living, striving to make enough to pay the bills, planning for retirement, then getting there, and living on a fixed income with declining health. Add to all that the never-ending perfect storm of “news” on TV, radio, the internet. Corruption in both parties, name-calling on both sides, government drowning in debt and grasping for more taxes, pandemics, wars, rumors of war, men, women, and children pouring over the borders in desperate search of a better life – and some just wanting to make a killing.
It is enough to sink a ship, isn’t it? There is too much in the cargo hold. I have days when I feel like I’m overboard and drowning Life is hard! It’s full of currents, riptides, undertows, and storms. Sometimes I can’t swim anymore. I just can’t do it.
And then it comes to me. Peter walked on water — until he started looking around at the turbulent sea, the high-rise waves. That’s when he started sinking. And I’m doing the same thing — looking at the churning waters of daily living in this chaotic fallen world. Jesus knows what’s going on, what’s good for me and what’s not – what chores, lists, dreams, and what self-imposed responsibilities need to be jettisoned so that I can fulfill the purpose He has for my life. And I hear God whisper again. Drop anchor, Beloved. Trust in Me.
I’ve been a Christian for decades. You’d think I’d be better at doing life. But days can be full of trials and tribulation, and I can so easily slip back into trying to do everything in my own strength. How about you?
When things calm down, and they always do when I drop anchor in God knowing He is at the helm, I realize storms and heavy seas are a gift from God. Why? Because they bring me to my knees again and again, reminding me to keep my eyes on Jesus. Only in Him can I ride the waves in peace.