I looked out at the vast sea before me. It was dark and foreboding, dangerous and cruel. My eyes traced the distant horizon, looking for anything—a leakage of light, a weak beam of the sun, a signal of hope. Straining, I saw nothing. The sea churned in a terrible, thunderous, and unearthly roar. It frightened me.
I turned and looked behind me. Surely there was a mistake. This is not how I had imagined my calling. But the road that snaked behind me, plain, unmistakable, and well-worn, was mine. My life’s journey—my calling—had led me here.
Slowly, I turned to face the sea once more. Incredulously, I blinked. Perhaps I was dreaming. Surely this was not my task. Surely it was for someone older, experienced, and wise. Not me.
But there was no mistake. So I stepped out, in faith alone.
God had called me to walk on the stormy sea—for Him, and for His glory.