As a seafaring veteran of over thirty-five years, Captain Reginald Clarbonne knew his vessels and waterways well. The forecast that day was for a mostly sunny afternoon with some clouds, moderate winds, and slightly choppy waters, but Captain Clarbonne still sensed that volatile conditions were ahead. He ordered First Mate Lisbon to have the crew batten down and secure all on the ship’s deck. Lisbon, although a very experienced officer himself, looked at the sky incredulously and again at Captain Clarbonne, who countered the glance with a slight scowl. Even the crew, who dutifully worked the deck as directed, maintained an air of disbelief. The skies were sunny, the temperature was very warm with the wind blowing rather strong, and the clouds showed no sign for impending concern. In spite of their reluctance, the ship’s crew and officers maintained a fairly solid respect for the captain, knowing that he only erred on the side of caution.
The Bernelle Collette was a sturdy and sound commercial vessel that had traveled frequently throughout much of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. Captain Clarbonne really enjoyed the ease of navigating her to the many ports of Europe, Africa, and North and South America over the past eight years, and he knew that she could handle most of the severe conditions that might come her way. His diverse and rugged crew was equally qualified for the task at hand.
For several hours the skies were spectacular, as the sun streamed through a varied assortment of clouds and the temperatures remained at a very warm level. Even though the wind was steadily increasing, there seemed to be little to warrant any concern. But Captain Clarbonne still remained adamant that rough seas were ahead.
Around three in the afternoon, the clouds, no longer a collection of odd floating shapes, had turned into one ominously dark, massive cloud that was slowly bearing down on the Bernelle Collette and her crew. Within an hour the temperature dropped significantly and the crew no longer remained skeptical about Clarbonne’s prior warnings. The ship’s radar showed severe storms approaching, with reports rapidly coming in from other vessels nearby of their very intense properties.
Yet he also knew that the storm’s constantly evolving characteristics, as reported by some of the more distant vessels, could engulf him and create an even worse condition. He seemed to remember a small safe harbor some distance away. But he wondered—could they make it in time?
By five o’clock, the storm’s outer edges had already passed over the vicinity of the Bernelle Collette. Waves were cresting at five to six feet and starting to lash at the bow. The crew was growing anxious as the sky took on the appearance of nightfall, and crashes of thunder greatly vibrated the gear on the upper deck. They were reminded again not to question the captain’s judgment, even when conditions seemed to indicate otherwise. Captain Clarbonne ordered the ship hard to starboard, and then to proceed full speed ahead. He knew they had very little time left to reach the safe harbor.
At twenty minutes after five the storm’s fury was steadily increasing, with wave heights now cresting at nine and a half feet. Lightning was vigorously dancing all around the Bernelle Collette and the thunder was almost deafening at times. The strong heeling of the vessel almost threw Limmer, one of the few crew members still on deck, overboard. At the captain’s request, Lisbon ordered all of the crew below deck until further notice.
After alternately studying the radar and reviewing the navigation charts, Captain Clarbonne concluded that they were not going to reach safe harbor in time. The men around him knew what this meant—they would now have to ride out the full fury of the storm. When word reached the rest of the crew, many reacted glumly, full of anxious concern. Some grew angry and shook their fist in the general direction of the ship’s bridge where the captain remained stationed. They wanted to know why the captain couldn’t have turned around sooner, or why he pressed forward when he knew that horrendous and now deadly conditions were fast approaching. Yet a few crew members did not let their shipmates’ pessimism overtake them. They knew that the captain would, somehow or other, get them to port all in one piece.
A short distance later, Captain Clarbonne reviewed the charts again and determined that they were now in just the right place. He ordered the vessel to face the waves, then come to a full stop and drop the anchors. After the crew accomplished the captain’s directive with much difficulty, the vessel was at rest (if one could call it that). At five forty-five, the waves crested at over eleven feet and shook the huge Bernelle Collette with each passing blow. The officers and crew tried to remain somewhat calm, but worry still kept a strong grip upon their weary bodies. With the winds howling and the waves pounding the bow, many feared that they might not see tomorrow.
With the exception of intense flashes of lightning, the cloudy night sky and the ocean appeared to be one dark mass. Wave after wave kept crashing over the bow and draining off the sides of the deck. With each blow, it felt like the ship was gradually coming apart, even though it actually continued to hold quite well. Inside the hull shudders and groans grew greater in volume, and the cargo began to shift from its resting places as the vessel angrily rocked back and forth. The crew grew more and more concerned that the cargo might break free and upset the balance, causing the Bernelle Collette to list greatly and possibly sink.
He had been through storms of similar intensity before, and he knew what the breaking point of his vessel would be. More importantly, he knew the density and strength of the rocky floor beneath the Bernelle Collette, and was therefore assured that the anchor was holding secure. Due to his long experience with the characteristics of various violent weather systems, and his knowledge of the strengths as well as the weaknesses of the Bernelle Collette, he was able to maintain full confidence that they would adequately weather this latest storm.
Although the storm lasted only an hour and a half, all on board felt like most of the night had passed by. By eight o’clock that evening, the wrath of the storm was well behind them. The clouds began breaking up in the night sky, where an abundance of stars had begun to peer through, along with the rising moon that illuminated the formerly restless sea. The air was much cooler and the wind continued to subside, dying down to only a very strong breeze. With a weary cheer from the crew, the Bernelle Collette weighed anchor and, with a slight starboard turn, proceeded once again standard speed ahead to her destination. Captain Clarbonne, a cup of coffee in hand, stared out over the gentle moonlit waterway and quietly eased forth a sigh of relief. He mentally chalked up this episode as he added another successful accomplishment to his seafaring repertoire.
In the great sea of life, storms are constantly battering our lives. Waves crash against us and we often struggle just to stay afloat. We try to fight, but we often end up being swept farther away from the shore into deeper and more intense water. Safe harbors we want to reach seem to constantly move more and more away from us, in spite of all of our determined efforts to reach them. We look for help from a nearby vessel and see none in sight, or one that is even worse off than we are. We naively fall prey to the storm’s lulls as victorious breakthroughs, only to be lashed even more when the interlude ends and the storm returns with greater fury. We seem to continually find ourselves adrift because we lack the energy to propel ourselves against the powerful waves that come against us.
Yet it does not have to be this way. Jesus said, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30). Actually, God brings these storms upon us in order to test us, to see if we will yield to Him, or continue on trying to navigate our lives by ourselves. No storm is too great for Him to handle, but every storm can become too great for us if we try to overcome it by ourselves. We need to stop doing the fighting and place our anchor in Jesus. Our anchor is always secure, no matter how difficult the storm may be, when it is fastened in Him, the Rock of Ages.
Victory in life will only come when we place our complete faith and trust—“our anchor”—in Jesus and His victory at the cross. His sacrifice of His own life on the cross, which brought us victory over sin and death, was complete and final. When we fight against various problems and circumstances of this life (the by-products of sin) on our own, we are, in essence, trying to get victory over sin by ourselves. But He already fulfilled all of God’s requirements for the forgiveness of sin on our behalf. We must place our burdens, cares, problems, worries, sins and sinful habits, etc., into the arms of Jesus, and let Him take care of them. We must yield and let Jesus be the ruler of our life. We must ask God to forgive us for the sins we have committed against Him and then stop committing them. When you “draw nigh [near] to God…he will draw nigh to you” (James 4:8a).
It doesn’t matter whether you have been a believer in and follower of Jesus for decades, or have just found out about Him. He needs to be the rock you anchor your heart and life to. Storms will come and go. They will batter you, sometimes even to the point of death. But when you are anchored in Jesus, your anchor will hold secure, and you will be able to safely weather any storm. You cannot fight the storm on your own and survive. Jesus has already fought the storm of all storms on the cross for you, and He was victorious! Now claim this victory for yourself by placing your faith and trust solely in His victory at the cross. Don’t let the storms of life cause you to break away and capsize or just hopelessly drift because your anchor was in an insecure foundation.
Upon life’s boundless ocean where mighty billows roll,
I’ve fixed my hope in Jesus, blest anchor of my soul;
When trials fierce assail me as storms are gath’ring o’er,
I rest upon His mercy and trust Him more.
I’ve anchored in Jesus, the storms of life I’ll brave,
I’ve anchored in Jesus, I fear no wind or wave;
I’ve anchored in Jesus, for He hath pow’r to save,
I’ve anchored to the Rock of Ages.
For additional information about obtaining this victory Jesus has won at the cross please visit our page on The Way to God.