Mightier than the thunder of the great waters,
mightier than the breakers of the sea—
the LORD on high is mighty.
390 years today, they were still out at sea.
It would be another 5 days before they spotted accessible land, another week before they were able to drop anchor at the tip of Cape Cod.
The 102 passengers of the Mayflower and the estimated 25-30 crew members.
Still at sea.
Still at sea is the time in the passage of faith that takes the perseverance that defies self-preservation, self-determination and self in general. Still at sea is when we are completely without control.
There is a thrill in setting out on the voyage. To feel the call. To make the preparations. To look for the signs that this is the way the Lord wants you to go.
And, of course, landing on the other side of that journey carries an energy all its own.
But still at sea?
What of that?
When the storm surrounds and has for days. When the ship bobbles like a toy outsized. When doubts fly, leadership quakes, energy falls and there is no sight of land.
Still at sea.
Each of us makes crossings of faith at various times in our lives. Some of us still stand on the shore of what is familiar. We are looking toward the horizon, ready to embark for a shore that seems so far but in the Spirit is somehow visible. Some of us have anchored at the harbor of our purpose and are walking the strangely new and yet seemingly familiar terrain of our gifting.
But others of us are still at sea.
Doubting our decisions.
Feeling blindly for the fringe of our faith.
Trying to exchange our wondering and wandering for worship.
Just a few days more. To hold fast. To know that land will come. To believe that destiny awaits.
Just a few days more. To be still. At sea. To be still. Still at sea.