Sometimes we feel like giving up. After we throw our hands in the air and cry out in distress, we don't know what to do. We want to forget our past and hope for an easier future. We don't want anymore hardship. We simply and plainly want to dock our boat in the harbor and never set sail again. But sooner or later, as we pace back and forth in thought, we realize that we were born to fight and steer ourselves through even the darkest of storms. And though it's hard, we belong in the unmapped waves of the ocean, sailing our ships in the most violent of winds. And then somehow, because of some weird instinct that rustles within our bones, we get back on that old, dilapidated boat and leave the safe, comely harbor for the ocean. But why does that happen? Why would we leave the harbor only to struggle day by day over the unfounded currents?
Probably like you, I have had my hard, ominous weeks, where I feel desperate for any joy and hope. I, in fact, DO feel like I'm suffering on an unfounded current; completely alone in the ocean on my tattered boat beneath me. But even it is soaked and sinking: ripped, cracked, and filled with water. Its sails whip in the winds of the storm and its side snaps as violent waves slap against it. I'm only clinging to the thin mast, feeling soaked, scratched, afraid, and angry. All I can see are the piercing raindrops that dash down from the sky onto my cold face. My soul feels ripped and I am ready to give up. However, when I gaze down at the hole in my boat, deciding whether I should let the water continue to rise, something peculiarly right runs through my mind. Something meticulously smart pricks at my crannies and I listen.
"Look at the hole there, lettin' all the water in your little ship! You're gonna sink. Go ahead, contemplate that idea..." the voice pauses as I gulp back heavy tears. "Think about it: you've come all this way to sail this little ship to tell your parents of your travel's and show the world you can do it, yet you're already gonna give up! Yes, this storm is big. This storm, in fact, is deathly, but don't you remember you chose to sail here? You knew there would be storms before you left the harbor. You knew there would be monsters. And you knew many a time, you'd starve.
"Lift your chin up, little miss, no matter the weight of your thoughts. Before you let the boat drown, think about the rising sun in the morning that's waiting for you tomorrow. Think about the reflection of yourself in the sea, which shows you who you are. Think about the travel's you could still go and the landmarks you could still discover! And don't forget about the people you could still lead. You'd be their pioneer and maybe, just maybe, they'd choose to keep sailing rather than drowning to the depths of this sea. Just remember before you go that you've still got a sea to overcome, a sail to rise, and a dawn to see. You'll have help along the way, little miss. Just keep sailing your little ship and you won't have to worry."
Now, what exactly pushes us to keep sailing the vast ocean? For me, it is a voice--a hope that nearly feels like a vision of my future. It's a knowledge inside of me, which knows where I'm meant to be, who I am, and where I'm meant to go. And that voice, that knowledge, comes from God; I know, because He desires for us to reach His safe harbor once again, despite the pain that accompanies the journey. With that answer then nestled in our souls, we keep going, trusting in our divinity, our capability, and our victory. We won't be alone as we face the storms, though sometimes we feel so. Christ will be with us, guiding our little ship through the vast ocean, just like He did in the Bible. And He'll be saying, "Peace Be Still", calming those storms ahead of us.
Hooked to Christ, as I am with my little sailboat, I don't have to worry. He is my refuge, and as long as I never let go, I'll never have to sink. And neither will you.
Makenzie Monson
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