Paul and his companions sailed for Rome, but a tempestuous wind, called the northeaster, struck the ship. Driven along for fourteen days, the ship eventually came within site of an island. The sailers aimed for a beach, but ran aground on a reef. The order came to jump overboard and make for land, either by swimming for those who could, or by clinging to broken pieces of the boat for those who could not.

Imagine the terror. Surrounded by winds raging and waves pounding, all you have is a soggy plank to keep you afloat. But to stay behind meant certain death as the ship was pounded apart. If you want to live, grab hold of a chunk of wood and kick toward shore. A drowning man ain’t picky.

An angel told Paul there would be no loss of life among the 276 passengers on the ship. But the angel did not specify how each person would be saved. Desperation fueled limbs. When reaching shore they collapsed in relief and gratitude. As the angel predicted, no one drowned.

Doesn’t God come alongside us in the same way? I pray for delivery from some problem, but the Lord doesn’t answer as I’m driven along by the storm day after day. Then, when relief does come, it never looks at shiny and safe as I dreamed. It appears more like a log in the water than a coast guard helicopter. Yet it gets the job done. Thank you Lord for the means of rescue you extend, soggy planks and all.

Acts 27

Photo by The New York Public Library