The God of the Windless Sea

The God of the Windless Sea

Equatorial ocean regions of the world are noted for those occasional phenomena called the "doldrums." In such times the winds cease, the seas go flat, the air becomes oppressive, and sailing vessels come to a standstill. Without a breath of wind to catch in the sails, boats can be trapped for days in this death-like calm. In "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," Samuel Taylor Coleridge describes it well:

  Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, / 'Twas sad as sad could be; / And we did speak only to break / The silence of the sea! ...Day after day, day after day / We stuck, nor breath nor motion / As idle as a painted ship / Upon a painted ocean.

The Christian life is sometimes likened to a voyage on the boundless seas. We, too, are subjected to the unpredictability of ever-changing weather and its consequent impact on our "little ship." We may even encounter the spiritual doldrums—no fresh heavenly breezes, passive seas, no apparent progress, and the journey stagnates. Anyone who has sailed the spiritual oceans for very long has experienced (or will experience) the doldrums. I have—more than once—and can testify that it is pure agony of soul. In my single most poignant encounter with the doldrums, I took pen in hand and wrote the following:

 

The sail went limp—No wind!

One, two, three days.

Then a week, a month, and another.

Survival becomes a matter of concern.

 

But, no worry! The supplies are endless

But the dream, the adventure, the romance—

They are being drained,

And are vanishing like the early morning fog.

 

No longer thrilled by the shivers of excitement

That marked the beginning.

No longer driven by the burning hope

Of living life's most fruitful days.

 

No longer enchanted by new surroundings.

Just—nothing.

Nothing, but the assurance

That the voyage has been ordered.

 

But is it to end now on these windless seas?

With misgiving and doubt punishing

An already troubled and tortured mind?

He comes! He speaks simply: "Be still and know that I am God."

 

What? Be still? How can one be still

When the dream has scarcely

Begun to unfold?

 

How can the Promiser ask such a thing

When the promises are still

The baseless fabric of a dream? 

 

And yet, if He commanded the voyage,

Then there must be some purpose

To the days of the windless sea.

 

I have known Him in the gale

When the little ship seemed to take wings.

I have known Him in the soft breeze

When sailing was a pure delight.

 

But the God of the windless sea—Can it be?

Is He also the God of the dead calm?

Can He bring purpose,

Even to the restless days of the windless sea?

 

"Be still and know."

If you are experiencing the windless seas, be encouraged. Though painful, the doldrums can help you learn to cast yourself upon God alone and His boundless resources. Learning to trust God without regard to circumstances is an invaluable lesson to learn. What you learn amid "the silence of the sea" can strengthen and prepare you for future tempests that await you. So take comfort in this reassuring word: "Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10).

Jim L. Bond, General Superintendent

Holiness Today, Nov/Dec 2004

Please note: This article was originally published in 2004. All facts, figures, and titles were accurate to the best of our knowledge at that time but may have since changed.

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