A ship in harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.
(Attr. to John A. Shedd)
I love good quotes. And good metaphors. And good quotes that are good metaphors are the best. Like this one. I love the metaphor of setting sail into a grand new adventure. Skimming off into the sunrise. Hoisting the sails. Weighing the anchor. Peering off into the horizon, eyes narrowed against the sun’s reflection on the waves, envisioning another world…
It all sounds quite grand. It feels exciting (feel the increased heart rate in your chest? The dreams, skittering just beneath the surface of your mind, waiting to become reality? The wind in your hair, the sea spray on your cheeks, the smooth helm beneath your fingers?).
Well, until the metaphor is no longer metaphorical and the quote leaps off your wall and starts messing with your life.
Until it comes time to actually grab hold of the windlass and shove till your muscles ache while you weigh anchor. Until it comes time to raise the mainsail and catch the wind and hopefully not toss yourself overboard in the process. Until it comes time to pull out your directional charts or compass or sextant and start figuring out where on earth (oh, excuse me, where on sea) you’re headed…
Not that it’s not still exciting, especially if you’re someone who likes change. But if you’re like me and maybe don’t cherish change as much as the next person, it can also feel big and scary. Stepping out of something known into something unknown isn’t always easy. In fact, it can be downright terrifying. For many of us, it’s a lot easier to just hunker down and stay put. Oh, I’ll get around to it, we think, eventually. When I’m less busy. When I’m stronger. When I’m —
What we mean, if we were honest, is actually I’ll never get around to that new thing we’ve spoken of. But we feel better about ourselves for talking about it. For being “on the way”, as it were.
We like to think we thrive where we are comfortable — but we thrive where God calls us. Sometimes it’s the bravest thing we can do to stay somewhere, waiting on Him. But other times, the most courageous act we can take is to heed His call and go.
I don’t know about you, but my ship has taken on a lot of water during our adventures beyond the harbor. I’ve had torn sails and missing maps. (Fortunately no crew has mutinied thus far, but I also don’t have children yet, so there’s always a first.) I’ve faced some storms that have reminded me that while I have direct responsibility before God for my life, He is the one Who controls the wind and the waves. And while I’m not a very experienced sailor on life’s seas yet, there are some incredibly precious jewels He’s helped me discover along the way — jewels you’ll find, too, when you set sail beyond the harbor.
First, God knows where you’re headed. Even if you don’t.
This is terribly relieving if you’re a human who likes some minor semblance of control (yes, you and me). There have been so many times I’ve cried out for wisdom and direction, praying that God would show me which way to go next. Although I didn’t necessarily want to admit it, what I meant was, Please, God, give me a complete map of this entire region we’re exploring, a daily schedule to follow, and a direct play-by-play of what I need to do, where, when, and how. Also, if you can let me know where any villains or dangers are and how to conquer them, that’d be great.
Funny, He hasn’t yet seen fit to provide that.
What He has seen fit to provide is daily strength, daily guidance, daily comfort, and daily wisdom. He has seen fit to coordinate opportunities in my life and path that I had nothing to do with. He has seen fit to open and close doors that no one, including me, can wrestle back.
Yes, when God says, “Hey, time to go,” it can be really scary to not know where exactly you’re headed. It can be scary to step into the black, unexplored regions of your map that simply say BEYOND THE EDGE OF THE WORLD. It can be scary to trust the helm to a different Captain rather than hanging desperately onto it for all you’re worth.
But here’s the thing. God. Knows. Where. He. Is. Leading. You.
I don’t know why that truth is so hard to drum into my thick head. But it’s true. God, King eternal and Messiah who died to save me, knows exactly what is going on, when things will happen, how it will occur, and where He is leading (not forcing) me.
And, even if worry is still clamoring at us, we can sail bravely into the wind when we trust our Captain’s love and wisdom.
Second, God controls the wind and the waves.
Peter’s climb out of the boat and onto the waves is a story that has always been close to my heart. I resonate with his cry, Lord, if it is You. No way I’m climbing out of this boat and into a crazy storm if it’s not.
But, if it is You, Lord…
then how can I not?
And then even after a crazy act of faith, even after I’ve made the initial act to go and face something new and unknown, even after I’ve seen the things God has already done — it is so, so easy to see the wind and become afraid and begin to sink in the fears and doubts and difficulties. I resonate with his cry, Lord, save me! How else can I face this?
But you know what, no matter how far under I’ve gone, or how much the salt has burned my eyes, or how many times the waves have smacked me square in the face, my Savior has never not grasped me by the hand and taken hold of me. And after I’m safely back in the boat, I realize He never let go in the first place.
Eventually the wind ceases and the waves calm. Because no matter what unknowns we are facing, Jesus is the Master of the wind and the waves. Nothing gets to us without going through His love. In this life, we will face storms. But even if the storm seems big, we can sail bravely through it when we trust our Captain’s love and power.
And third, God is our safe harbor — even when we’re out yonder.
“Harbor” is a beautiful word referring to a typically sheltered, safe place to moor one’s vessel. It’s a location that is protected. One that is, historically, often well-defended. When we’re at anchor in a harbor, we feel that we can let down our guard. Go ashore. Restock provisions. Rest. Recuperate.
Sometimes we have physical places in our lives that are like this kind of “harbor”. Sometimes we have seasons of life that are like this kind of “harbor”. But guess what?
Even when we’re out at sea, even when we’re far from a physical or metaphorical place of life “rest” and comfort and restoration —
God is our safe harbor.
It’s a paradox that we can be out in deep water, sailing for uncharted territory and unexplored horizons, so far from the edge of our comfort zone and in the thick of obstacles and storms
AND
simultaneously rest safely in the harbor of our God’s love and provision and power and authority. Knowing His peace. Knowing His care. Knowing His rest.
Physical or life season “harbors” are great. Enjoy them when God takes you there! One of my life goals is to have a home that is this kind of “harbor” for everyone who comes in. But realize that even when you’re in the midst of a life change or challenge that feels like the middle of a hurricane, our God is not letting go of you. Somehow, in the beautiful paradoxical way God works things, we can experience His joy and peace and rest in the midst of the unknown as well as in the midst of the harbor. Even when we don’t know what’ll happen, we can sail bravely through unknown seas when we trust our Captain’s love and protection.
Sometimes God asks us to be brave and stay for a while. Other times, He asks us to be brave and go with Him. If you’re in a season where God is asking you to go, remember it’s okay to leave the harbor. You’ve got the only Captain Who can guide your vessel through every storm and unknown thing you’ll face. He’ll make sure you’ve got all the provisions you need to make it through. He’ll hold you fast, more securely than any anchor in any harbor anywhere.
And what’s more, remember that though there are challenges, there are also extraordinary things out there when we leave our comfortable harbor for the unknown. You’ll gape at glorious sunrises from angles you’ve never seen before. You’ll marvel at strange new creatures. You’ll meet wonderful new people. You’ll see beautiful places you’ve only thus far imagined.
There are things God wants to do in your life that require you to go into the unknown. So weigh the anchor. Hoist the mainsail. Let your gaze travel to the horizon. Go do what you were built for.
This week, may we be brave enough to go.
The Road to Brave 