At The Helm
In the river that is of God, there is an anchor
But no rudders, nor oars; no rowing banter
Here in this vessel, no crew that looks so stern
And the Captain sleeps peacefully with His head at the stern.
Trusting this Man who seemed not to have any clue
Appearing unperturbed looks like all He could do
That gentle grin on His roughened face
That silently told a tale of knowing mercy and grace
Here came the clouds; depression caused all colour to fade
But here I saw the Captain - still with that iron gaze
Looking to the horizon, eyes on the lights in its place
Loud boomed the thunder, fierce shrieks from the lightening in sight
I feared the Captain might have gone bats; for the thick clouds give no clues to the day or a dark night
A moment of desperation made me want to grab at the wheel
And like synergy, He told me "Ok, have a feel"
I wonder if this Mariner was truly what He looked to be
For many fishermen have their courtesy like the rough sea
Spitting and cursing, hardened by the storm
But there He was, gentle as a dove and crisp as a newcomer's dorm
Stay with me as I continue this odyssey; this tale really did intrigue
For soon, I came to learn, that finding Nemo was looked like no problem; this task was out of my league
Being twenty thousand under the sea wasn't a trip I would take for eighty days
So quickly called for the Ocean master; anticipating how it plays
"Told you so; give it here!" was what I expected the shame for me
But here came that Sailor from the stern where He should be
"Ye of little faith; do ye not believe?"
"For you have no spirit of fear but a sound mind; of a seed that grows free"
There in that sermon, I saw that in my moment's lust
I gave room for fear instead of the bloom called trust.
This tale taught me how I needed a gift like that of the mustard seed
To I trust in His gaze when the wind is freed
To I trust in His smile when I am tossed and turned
That I am safe when He grins and I then know I'll be alright.
Here I trust in the Captain at this sea called Life.