Trim the Sails and Trust the Savior

“We talk about ‘circumstances over which we have no control.’ None of us have control over our circumstances, but we are responsible for the way we pilot ourselves in the midst of things as they are. Two boats can sail in opposite directions in the same wind, according to the skill of the pilot. The pilot who conducts his vessel on to the rocks says he could not help it, the wind was in that direction; the one who took his vessel into the harbour had the same wind, but he knew how to trim his sails so that the wind conducted him in the direction he wanted. The power of the peace of God will enable you to steer your course in the mix-up of ordinary life.

O Lord, unto You do I turn, unto You. I am but a homeless waif until You touch me with the security of Your peace, the sweet sense of Your love” (Oswald Chambers).

This reminds me of what Corrie ten Boom once said about riding on trains. She said when that train goes into a long dark tunnel, you don’t jump off the train. You stay on and trust the conductor. That’s how it is with life when the proverbial seas swell with storms. You stay on board and afloat and trust the Pilot.

I love the verse in Isaiah that speaks to those God will keep in perfect peace whose minds are stayed on Him. That’s not a haphazard kind of faith driven about by every wind of emotion and circumstance but a firm determination and a resolute mindset developed by years of discipline that remains unmoved by any amount of wind or wave.

That’s what it means to have God’s peace. It’s to have a calm assurance in the midst of unrest and turmoil that you are in good hands. In the best hands. In God’s hands.

When the Lights Go Out

lucynarnia

I was en route from Memphis recently, listening to a book on CD, as all well-seasoned travellers do. It was The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, book 5 of The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. It was read by Derek Jacobi, by the way, in case you were dying to know.

In the book, the Dawn Treader sails into an island of darkness. It’s a place where fear rules and all nightmares come to life. Lucy is at the top of the ship, watching as the crew tries vainly to escape. In her desperation, she says, “Aslan, if you ever loved us, help us now.” The answer to her prayer is an albatross who, as he flies by her, whispers, “Courage, dear heart,” in Aslan’s voice. He then leads them out into the sunlight.

I bet you’ve been in some dark places in your life. You’ve felt trapped in the valley of the shadow of death, where no light or hope can get through. You’ve been searching for a way out, but all you find is more darkness, more despair, more hopelessness.

You feel your circumstances will never get better. You fear that nothing will ever change. You come to believe that your worst-case scenario is due to come true any day now. Your faith is at a low ebb and your fears are cresting and crashing waves that swamp you.

There’s a voice, if you are still enough to hear it, that whispers the same words what it whispered to Lucy. “Courage, dear heart.” It says, “Hold on. Trust in Me in the darkness even when you can’t find Me there. I am with you, with My everlasting arms underneath you. I will never ever let go.”

Don’t believe that you feel or what you think, but what you know. Believe the same God who has proved Himself over and over and Whose word is true. Know that He is with you and for you in your darkness. Darkness may prevail right now, but joy is coming with the morning.