I don’t know about you, but 2018 has been a doozy of a year for me. I’ve had to re-examine everything I thought I “knew” about God and His ways. Not that I hadn’t already done that several times in the last few years, but this go-around left me gasping for breath.
I clung to the lifeboat of other’s prayers when I had no words to pray my own. I fought against waves of grief, bewilderment, doubt…pain. But as the Apostle Peter said to Jesus, “Where would I go? You alone have the words of life.”¹
So. Eventually, I washed up on the shore, “shipwrecked on God and stranded on His omnipotence.” ² A bit of an oxymoron, isn’t it? Who wants to be shipwrecked? And we certainly don’t like to be stranded. Being stranded is so inconvenient. So lonely. So…helpless-feeling. I don’t want to be stranded. It shatters my illusion of control. And I especially don’t love the idea of being stranded on what sometimes feels like the capriciousness of God’s omnipotent sovereignty.
Ah, but think about this. We can kick and scream against the unfairness of life all we want. But if we’re shipwrecked on Him, then we’re stranded on not merely His power and His sovereignty, but we’re stranded on His mercy. His compassion. His love.
And perhaps that’s right where He wants us to be. Clinging to Him for dear life. Crying out to Him, as St. Augustine did so long ago, “Oh! For thy mercies’ sake, tell me, O Lord my God, what Thou art unto me. Say unto my soul, I am thy salvation; but say it so that I may hear Thee…say unto my soul, I am thy salvation.”
Say it so I can hear it above the waves, Jesus.
I alone am your salvation.
Say it so I can hear it again and again until I trust You more than what I see with my eyes.
I alone am your hope.
¹ John 6:68
² Havner, Vance. http://vancehavner.com/