My longtime sailing buddy, Bill, once joked, “Hurricanes seem to seek you out.”
He said it while we were moving my sailboat from Florida’s east coast to the west coast. When we departed Jacksonville, the weather window looked perfect. But sailboats are slow. Before we could reach the Keys, Hurricane Fred forced us to take refuge in Fort Lauderdale. Once Fred moved on, we slipped around the Keys—staying a safe distance behind him as he tracked toward the Panhandle while trying to stay ahead of Hurricane Grace, which was developing behind us. Grace eventually passed south of us, and we made it safely into Charlotte Harbor.
Bill wasn’t the only one who noticed my unusual encounters with bad weather. My friends on land would jokingly ask, “Have you been sailing with Gabriel?” Without waiting for a response they would begin singing “It’s a three-hour tour,” of the Gilligan’s Island theme song.
Years earlier, while living in Annapolis, I invited two couples to join us for a Saturday sail on the Chesapeake Bay. The day was beautiful—but almost completely windless—so we motored most of the afternoon. After a couple of uneventful hours, I headed toward one of my favorite anchorages near Round Bay off the Severn River. We dropped the hook, fired up the grill on the stern rail, and enjoyed lunch.
Then a man on a Jet Ski raced toward us.
He pointed north and shouted that a powerful storm was moving in fast. Although the skies were clear I checked the radar and the weather reports. He was right. A 70-knot squall was just twenty minutes away.
There was no time to run.
I immediately paid out another hundred feet of anchor rode, increasing the scope from fifty to one hundred fifty feet to give the anchor its best chance of holding. Everyone was sent below. Hatches were secured. Life jackets were put on.
One of the men, who had been relaxing shirtless in swim trunks, suddenly started buttoning his shirt and combing his hair.
“If things go south,” he said, “I don’t want them to find my body half-dressed.”
One of the women quietly began closing every window covering in the cabin.
“If we’re going to die,” she said, “I don’t want to see it coming.”
I gently explained that I needed to keep the windows uncovered so I could watch our anchor points, but I completely understood her fear.
Then the squall hit.
The wind exploded across the bay. The boat lurched and strained against the anchor rode. Rain pounded the deck so hard, the only time I could see beyond the bow was during the flashes of lightning. For twenty long minutes, all we could do was trust that the anchor would hold.
IT DID!
Not because I was an experienced sailor, but because the anchor was securely fastened to something far stronger than the storm.
Almost as quickly as it arrived, the storm was gone.
We climbed back into the cockpit to bright sunshine and an incredible double rainbow stretching across the sky. Broken tree limbs drifted past us. Adirondack chairs floated by. Entire egret nests had been ripped from the navigation markers.
One of the women looked at me and quietly said, “I think God is trying to tell you something.”I smiled, looked up at the rainbow, and replied, “Yes… He’s telling me He’s got this.”
I will never forget that day.
It reminds me that the Christian life is much like my anchored sailboat. Faith doesn’t prevent storms from coming. It keeps us from drifting when they arrive. An anchor cannot calm the wind or stop the waves, but it keeps the boat securely connected to something far more stable than itself.
“We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain…”
— Hebrews 6:19
This has become one of my favorite verses because it reminds me that my confidence isn’t ultimately in the strength of my faith, but in the faithfulness of God. Storms may shake us, but they cannot move the One to whom we are anchored.
What about those who don’t have that anchor?
Life’s storms show no favoritism.
- The house burns down.
- The marriage falls apart.
- The doctor’s diagnosis changes everything.
- Children die.
- Financial security disappears overnight.
Storms come for all of us.
What keeps someone from drifting into despair when there is nothing solid left to hold onto?
God never promised us a storm-free life, but He did promise His presence and His peace.
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
— Philippians 4:6-7
Looking back, I handled earlier storms in my life poorly. I was religious, but not at peace. It wasn’t until my spiritual awakening—when I stopped trusting in religion and began pursuing a genuine relationship with my heavenly Father—that I began experiencing the peace that truly transcends understanding.
If you’re not experiencing that peace today, turn toward God. Surrender your life to Him and place your trust in Jesus Christ. The storms of life will still come—as they do for every one of us—but you’ll discover that your hope is no longer tied to circumstances. It is anchored in the One who never changes.
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