It was a five ferry day. From the coach, onto the ferry, back on the coach, drive to the next ferry. Rinse and repeat. The rain was pouring down. The sun, long obscured, few prospects of it being able to show its face. Umbrellas absolutely necessary and at the ready. Gravol was close at hand too! Seasickness is a possibility but I’m usually pretty good. However, even “calm” seas do not always feel calm to this landlubber’s stomach.
We were boarding the second last ferry of the day when the wind really picked up. A friend of mine wanted to stay out on the deck and I didn’t think much of it until the boat pitched. I knew that I didn’t have a choice. I needed to sit. I needed to close my eyes so I wouldn’t see the tilting landscape all around me. Then, hopefully, my stomach would put itself back in its proper location and all would be good.
It really was only all good when my feet hit the shore again. There’s something so comforting to my heart about terra firma. I love the ocean, but my stomach is most at home on land.
My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me. Psalm 63:8 (NIV)
I hold on to you for dear life, and you hold me steady as a post. Psalm 63:8 (MSG)
Do I cling to my God the way I cling to my survival methods? Even the word cling evokes such a strong image of having grasped on tightly, knuckles white and not wanting to let go, no matter what. Oh, there were multiple prayers offered up as I sat on the boat while it was on the not calm sea. However, I don’t know that I consistently am that quick to cling to my God.
Typically, I try my methods of fixing it all first. When that all amounts to nothing (because it usually does), then I turn my face to heaven and am reminded that the only sure place I can go is to my God. The right hand of my God is powerful. To be on the right hand of a leader is a power seat. God’s right hand upholds, sustains, endures, equips, protects.
I like the idea of being “steady as a post.” That’s a place of being grounded, dug in, entrenched, immovable. Sometimes, I get dug in over the wrong thing. But getting myself dug in with God, dug into Him. That’s a place of security. That’s a place of hope. That’s a place of sure foundation. That’s a place of knowing His presence.
God, may my hands be quick to cling to You. All else is just grasping. May my eyes be fixed on You. All else is blurry. May my mind be stuck on You. All else creates a cloudy perspective. Thank you for being steadfast and sure, the One I can count on. Amen.