At the Helm

My life is in such a mess. Turbulent. Churning. The wheel of the boat carrying me to my destiny has slipped from my hands. I have lost the ability to steer. I have lost the ability to keep my life on the path I had planned. Ill winds shred my sails and angry waves crash over my gunwales. I scream into the darkness and cry until my reservoir of tears is emptied.

My eyes are parched. I can cry no more. I am exhausted, spent, and losing hope. Despair lurks in the darkness ready to devour me.

Overwhelmed, I leave the helm to hide below deck on a cot huddled in the corner with a pillow. I am chilled and scared … more scared than I have ever been in my entire life. The boat continues to be rocked and thrown in random directions in the storm. I have given in to giving up.

Lord help me.

Suddenly, Christ appears on the bow, raises his hands and commands the winds to stop and the waves to calm. Creation obeys. I find the sudden silence and restfulness unsettling.

Jesus comes down the stairs below deck and sits on the edge of the cot. I look at Him, still tremulous, eyeing Him with caution while clenching the pillow to my chest. Anger, fear, hatred, shame, guilt, anxiety, dread … they are all there, all at once. I am unable to single out any one of them. But as I stare in His direction, I start to feel His warmth. My shivering, sobbing body begins to come to rest.

Jesus comforts me with words I cannot hear. He calms my spirit with eyes I cannot see. He coaxes my hand from the pillow. I begin to feel my muscles loosen their grip as He gestures to me to open my palms. Then He wipes a tear off my cheek with his finger, mixing it with one of his own. I feel Him clasping my trembling hands and gently massaging my knuckles. I feel warmth returning to my fingers. I hear the chatter of voices piercing my brain begin to leave, one by one, until nearly all have left.

I close my eyes and feel the pain of life disappear for a moment as I focus my inner vision on the moistness of His empathy on my skin. I find comfort in knowing that He knows.

With eyes still closed I spread my arms and reach out to hug him. I feel the powerful warming presence of His Spirit, but his body is gone. My arms close again around the pillow instead and I find myself smiling. He is still here! He is with me! He is in, and around, and all through me!

I roll back down onto the bed, cradle the pillow, and continue to feel the presence of His Spirit. I want this moment of tranquility to last forever, but I know it won’t. I softly sink into a deep sleep knowing that when the eye of the storm does pass, I will once again resume my station at the helm … only this time, I am going to let Him steer.