Propelled Yet Protected

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The world is an ocean,
Our soul is a ship.
Controlling the weather
Is ne’er in our grip.


Our past ‘round us blowing
A fierce gale of hate
The memories – a whirlpool –
We sink with their weight.


To bridle the outward
Is not in our hands
To do so is pointless
Like counting the sands.


The waves toss around us
To kill, steal, destroy
If hear we these voices
They’ll rob us of joy.


If eyes cast we downward
T’wards doubt and remorse
Then, storms of past offense
Can shipwreck our course.


The presence of tumult
Both certain appear
To lives filled with gladness
And lives filled with fear.


As long as our vessel,
No anchor grasp we,
The tempest can pitch us
Well oft’ in the sea.


Yet have we a mainstay
Quite seldom recalled
An anchor of surety
Despite violent squalls.


This ballast’s not lowered
Into oceans deep
But raised through the heav’nlies —
Fixed fast to our Keep.


Through veil of dimension
Our strong chain doth reach
Past curtain of seen things
Through gossamer breach.


With faithed hand we cling to
This strong towing rope.
Unseen promise cherish —
Believing we hope.


And find we existence,
Translucent and pure,
Of thoughts fixed, expectant,
On anchor secure.


Reality unveiled
Is suddenly clear.
Our eyes off the tempest
On Hope to cohere.


“A Hope, sure and steadfast
Which enters the veil” —
When trusting this promise
Discouragement pales.


Why cast down O soul, you’ve
A rescuing Hand
That reaches through trouble —
A spiritual strand.


Your action is grasping
To Him now with faith.
Believing’s your movement
And doubt is your wraith.


The world is an ocean
Our ship is our soul.
We’ll get to safe harbor
When on Hope we hold.