There arose a fierce, “tempestuous wind,” striking fear into those seasoned seamen and their passengers as they were “exceedingly tossed” by that powerful force. The “south wind blew softly,” and what had been an uneventful trip, a prison transfer of sorts, had now morphed into a nightmare. The sky was blackened by angry clouds, so that “neither sun nor stars in many days appeared.” After fourteen days and nights of battle with the raging forces of nature, we are told that the souls aboard that tempest-tossed vessel “wished for the day.” They were spent, weary from the storm, desperately clinging to the hope of daylight. God miraculously saved the lives of the apostle Paul and his fellow occupants on that ill-fated vessel, as the ship ran “aground” and “was broken with the violence of the waves.”
The “violence of the waves.” Have you been there? Have you been swamped by the waves, the fierce winds, the unrelenting pounding of the storm? Has that storm blackened the sun, darkened your way, left you yearning “for the day?” Are you feeling “broken,” adrift on that “tempestuous” sea right now, struggling to hold your footing in a storm that seems endless. I have been there; I recall stormy seasons in my life, alone times, fearful walks through “the valley of the shadow of death,” as penned by David. What can we do when we see no end, no “day” on the horizon?
I find comfort when I adjust my lens, when I focus upon the ultimate storm experience recorded for us in Scripture, that of Jesus Christ. The Prince of heaven made Himself a pauper, with “not where to lay his head.” He walked this earth knowing that His ultimate purpose was “being made a curse for us,” God Himself, in the flesh, bearing the penalty of sin for fallen man. Any storm I am asked to endure pales in comparison to that of the One Who “came unto his own, and his own received him not,” rejected not only by those He came to rescue, but also “forsaken” by a Father Who could not look upon the sin He bore, having “purer eyes than to behold evil.” But Jesus endured that storm “for the joy that was set before him.”
In His suffering He saw the end of the storm, the “day” to come, for the “joy” He saw was ME, kneeling at that cross, and He sees you also. His storm had a purpose, and so does yours. I have no easy escape plans to offer you as you face dark, stormy, lonely days, but I can help point your focus toward the One Who endured a storm for you. Weary soul, look “unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.”
Hebrews 12:2 Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
Lord, the storms of life are too overwhelming for me. When I don’t see an end, and am wishing for the light of day, help me to find comfort and shelter from the waves in You.