The sea knows storms. Sometimes they are announced by deathly dark clouds gathering like a threatening army on the horizon. At other times they appear suddenly as if from nowhere. It could be a gust of wind, or an angry wave letting the deck shake under your feet or roll and move like a see-saw representing the grip of something larger.
Then a ship lowers its anchor. It is a simple iron tool that drops down in dark, deep waters until it reaches the bottom and takes a holding grip.
Not all storms are out at sea.
On board a vehicle cargo ship in Port Elizabeth, Danie meets a seaman that carries a storm within, quietly and silently. His ship lies safely in the anchor. Vehicles wait in a long line before they are swallowed into the bow one by one. In the bay a tame breeze plays on the water. It is a peaceful view.
Yet, within the man a storm batters without relief. Thousands of kilometres away a house, full of responsibilities await. These weigh heavier on him than his shoulders can bear. Accounts are piling up. A whole family’s existence is not easy if you are the only breadwinner. The need is always bigger than the low, low salary that lands in your account for a moment each month. Every worry pulls him apart like a strong stream - his body on board, his thoughts and his heart at home, oceans away.
Not with fast easy answers. Not with cheap promises that everything will look rosier tomorrow. He gives the man something extremely rare - time, space, a safe place to put down his heavy load. Eventually he also gives him a Bible. Someone could say it is only paper and ink, but for this man it becomes an anchor.
When the night grows long and worries hit your thoughts like waves, he can read. When fear threatens to enclose him like mist, he can return to words that remind him that God sees him. When he does not know where to run, he can pray.
At the CSO we cannot silence every storm. We cannot pay each debt. We cannot solve every problem or repair every broken situation we hear about. But, we can stand next to someone while the wind blows. We can listen. We can bring hope.
Sometimes we can place an anchor in a man’s hand - God’s Word. It will drop down the dark water to find the secure bottom, whispering the storm is real, but you are not alone.
Thank you so much for supporting us financially. It means so much more for men working at sea than you can ever imagine.