When Sea Billows Roll

For most of my life I have lived on the island of Newfoundland. We are surrounded by water…and not just any water. It is the North Atlantic — sometimes calm, peaceful and alluring; sometimes fierce, cold, and unpredictable. You would think that I would be used to the ocean by now, or at least be able to embrace it somewhat, but as long as the ocean is just in my eyesight and not underneath me, I am fine. I am much happier with the unmovable, unshakable ground beneath my feet…a benefit of living on The Rock!

“When sorrows like sea billows roll.” The imagery used in this lyric by Horatio Spafford in the classic hymn, ‘It Is Well With My Soul’, is so eloquently articulated. I wrote some time back on the sad story behind this hymn. I am sure that the author was probably writing that phrase while on a ship that was tossing and turning at the time, during a horrifying moment of grief in his life. Nothing describes sorrows as aptly as sea billows.

A few short weeks ago, we were on an unexpected adventure. We were in a hurry to get our son to another province in Canada for university for the winter semester. But, there was a problem — we had to cross the ocean to get him there. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I am not a fan of ferries. And I especially dislike ferry crossings at night. Several years ago we went on a road trip vacation with my parents. Of course, there are only two ways to get off of the island of Newfoundland -- by airplane or by ferry. So, the ferry was our method that year. As we were cluing up our vacation and heading back home from the mainland, we came upon the tail end of a hurricane. Of course, in my mind, we surely were not going to be heading across the Cabot Strait that night. But, I was wrong! The captain decided to take a chance. It was the worst ferry crossing of my life. Not only was the ferry rolling up and down, but giant waves were hitting the side of the ship as well. It shook, rattled, and rolled the whole way from Nova Scotia to Newfoundland. Needless to say, I did not sleep a wink that night. Between being terrified that we were going to sink, and trying to hang on to my cot for dear life while wearing satin pajamas (not a good choice), it was a challenging night! We finally arrived back in Newfoundland and I vowed and declared that I would never travel on a ferry at night again.

And, I didn’t…until I had to! For years, my loving family would honour my desire to travel across the ocean in the daytime. But, this time, I knew I had no choice. When it comes to your children, you gotta do what you gotta do! Our son had to get to university as quickly as possible, and, due to the winter travel and the numerous ferry crossing cancellations, our only option was a night crossing — the only crossing for the entire week. So, I took a deep breath, prayed a prayer, and headed into the cabin on the ferry for the night. I have to say that I am so thankful for a loving and caring Father who set me free from that fear...my fear of sinking was completely gone. I'm still working on the motion part keeping me awake, though!

I had never travelled by ferry in the winter before, and I had no idea how rough the sea would be. It was rough! From the beginning of our trip for about 5 hours, the ferry rocked and rolled. And when we headed back to Newfoundland, the last 5 hours of the crossing was the same way. I laid there during those hours wide awake, praying for the wind and waves to stop. The ship would roll so high at times, that I wasn’t sure if it would come back down. What helped me in those moments, next to praying, was picturing the captain of the ship steering and navigating the ship. I knew that he must have been experienced and was in complete control of what was taking place. I also knew that there was not one thing I could do to change this situation. The sea billows were high and raging. We did not know when the next wave would hit, or when they would stop. But the captain of the ship had a different vantage point than I. He could see what was taking place all around him. He had all of the knowledge and technology he needed to help him navigate the ship safely to its destination. What was something so unexpected and unnerving to me, was a normal winter voyage for the captain.

Not only was I trusting our night crossing to the captain of the ship, I was placing my complete trust in the Captain of my life to see me safely home. Horatio Spafford described sorrows as those unnerving sea billows. They can come upon us when least expected and overtake us. There can be highs one minute, and indescribable lows the next. Sorrow is not something that you can negotiate with. Many sorrows come upon us regardless of being able to stop it on our part. But, if you trust the Captain of your ship to see you through life’s storms, you will be able to ride out those waves and hang on until the calm and peace comes.

The calm on our ferry crossing that night came in as quickly as the storm did. As soon as the wind and waves ceased and the waters were peaceful, I slept like a baby. When sorrows like sea billows roll in my life now, I don’t fight and I don’t fear. I allow myself to sorrow and grieve during those times. Although it may seem overwhelming and unnerving, I trust in my Captain to steer my vessel into safe harbour.

We are all on a journey in this life. Storms, wind and waves can come upon us when we least expect it. There may be times that seem like we are stuck in the middle of the ocean with no land in sight. But, there is hope. Peace will come. Healing will come. Ride out the storms of this life with your trust and rest in the Captain. Jesus will calm those storms, and will navigate your vessel to safe harbour -- even when sea billows roll.