Before me I saw the waves rising and crashing in the midst of a vast ocean. The sky was dark with the raging storms. The torrent of rain tore against the surface of the tumultuous water. The winds whipped the water from the ocean and sky every which way.
Then, as a wave crested and fell in front of me, I saw a boat, made small by the waves all around and by the enormity of the storm. It was in the valley of this wave and climbing the side of the next that I saw it was made of wood. It could not last in such a storm. Surely this feeble boat would be torn asunder by the crash of the next surge.
I shook my head. “Why do you show me this?”
I looked up and was standing upon the deck. Above me stood the center mast, with sail billowing full of the furious wind. The crew was frantically flying from end to end, each with determination in his step. Each one knew his place and their hands were grasped upon the ropes. The sea burst over the side of the ship and sent several to their knees under the weight of the water, but they did not let go. Those behind lifted them back to their feet and back to task of fighting against the storm.
But this was all strange. Though it was day, it was dark as the night and the water was the deepest black. The tempest was so violent that none could stand against it. Yet, the sail was full and canvas strained as it pulled the boat.
In my confusion I looked for the captain. Why would he command the sail be left upon mast? Did he not know that the boat would surely be ripped in half due to the force of the gale? No sailor, no captain, would make such a foolish decision and risk the lives of everyone aboard.
As my eyes tracked the deck, I saw you. Standing at the wheel, shouting commands to those below. “Into the storm!”
I admit, I was taken aback. “Lord, what does mean”
As I turned back to you, I was no longer on the boat, but at a distance watching. The crew was faithful to your request as the bow broke into the next wave and spit the ocean in two. While a few had been washed away by letting go of the ropes in an attempt to save themselves, those that stood their ground upon the deck, hands on the task, had something to hold on to.
Now I saw the strangest picture of all. The sea billowed and flowed against the hull. But the wind drove against the ocean. The wind pushed in direct opposition to the chaos around you. I know a thing or two about storms; the water and the wind never oppose each other. In fact, the direction of the wave is a direct result of the wind. Yet here it was, and this boat was in the middle being driven by great gales against blackened sea.
And then I saw the wind was not of the storm, but within it. It was within it, but not less than it. The wind was from a mighty source, and the storm had no power over it.
The captain of this boat knew this. His crew knew this and followed him. His confidence in the mighty breather of the wind filled them with hope and strengthened their resolve. Together, backed by the uncompromising wind, their boat was propelled atop each wave and the ocean gave way before them.
I did not have the privilege to see beyond the storm, but as any storm, it will pass. A storm is never permanent.
If you turn into the storm, you will have the wind at you back and it will drive you onward. If you keep your sails up, they will be filled. And you, by the mighty power of your king, will overcome.
You said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”
He said, “Come.”