The year that I turned 28
I tried to be a sailor.
The seas were rocky, roiling, rough
The waves cried out “Assail her!“

My ship was new, just christened.
It hadn’t yet gone to sea.
And yet the ocean had decided
It wanted to capsize me.

So batten down the hatches and
Hoist all the colors with care
Or something, maybe, I don’t know.
Is anyone else out there?

Pushed into uncharted waters
I tried to weather the storm.
But the nightmarish clouds stacked high
I knew this was not the norm.

My fear, with claws that grip like death,
Dug in the flesh of my soul.
My ship rocked back and forth and back.
The storm had taken its toll.

And then I felt the gentle tug
Of rope tied to an anchor.
The steady, calm, familiar voice
That rose above the rancor.

“Batten down those hatches, dear one.
And tie those knots extra tight.
We’ll ride this storm out, you and me.
I’ll guide you through this dark night.”

I listened to that strong, calm voice
A bit shakily at first.
The sea, it raged and spit and fought.
It hadn’t yet done its worst.

But see, I know someone stronger.
He led me right through that gale.
And though my ship is broken
I know He’ll still help me prevail.

The year that I turned 28
I sailed some very rough seas.
But now I live to tell the tale
So others can sail like me.