Batten Down the Hatches

Batten Down the Hatches

The ocean is fascinating and dangerous. It has many moods. I hope not one life will be lost due to Hurricane Florence.

Two of my brothers were on board ships while they were in the US Navy. Storms struck at sea too. I noticed the Navy moved about thirty of their ships out of the way of Hurricane Florence, but when a ship is at sea, there are many storms it must ride out. The sailors would be told to go below deck. Airplanes on the flight deck would be taken below on elevators. The ship would ride a giant wave up and up, then plunge down into a trough while the sea broke over it.

I’ve often thought about the people who lived on the East Coast back during the days before radar and NOAA. They watched marine life–how was it acting? Were the sea gulls flying to the shore? How did the air feel? And then, during the Civil War, those times when hurricanes hit the South only made a horrific situation worse. Men and horses had to struggle against a natural enemy as well as a human one.

Life has its storms–that’s a fact of nature. Sometimes the storms are atmospheric; sometimes, they are internal upheavals. Everything can be fine and dandy (as Dad used to say) and then, it’s not. If life is a sea and people are the boats sailing it, we are bound to encounter storms. We get tossed and are in danger of being broken up or sinking. We seem to have just as much control over the storms of life as the people in the path of a hurricane.

When the wind batters us and it seems the waves are going to sink us to the bottom, it is comforting to know we can call upon the One who calmed the storm and caused the wind and waves to obey. With Him in the boat with us, we’ll make it safely through.

The Voyagers by Van Dyke

O Maker of the mighty deep, Whereon our vessels fare,

Above our life’s adventure keep Thy faithful watch and care.

In Thee we trust, whate’er befall; The sea is great, our boats are small.

We know not where the secret tides Will help us or delay,

Nor where the lurking tempest hides Nor where the fogs are gray.

We trust in Thee, whate’er befall; The sea is great, our boats are small.

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