I stepped to the doorway and took a deep breath of the damp, ocean-scented air. The fog lay thick on the water as it had since morning, but I could see the beach and the dunes that stretched away to the jetty. The boats were out there all right, and the sound of the outboards and throbbing of diesels carried back through the fog. This was the season for "kings", and every morning hundreds of boats set out from the harbor in search of this mighty, fighting game fish, the King of Salmon.
Jack stepped to the door and scanned the scene with his binoculars. "Can't see a thing through that fog," he said. "Sure hope they all know where they are!"
We went back to work, each absorbed in his own thoughts of the sea, hearing only the wail of the fog horn and the shriek of the whistle buoy. Suddenly, we became aware of a new sound. Looking out, we saw an aid car and a police car heading towards the jetty. Somebody must have been injured on the rocks!
Jack ran down and switched on the CB radio. In a moment he called, "Come on! Someone's in trouble—a boat has capsized." We climbed into the van and drove the half mile to the jetty. Jumping out, we ran to the top of the dunes. Sure enough, about 300 yards out in the middle of all that tumbling, frothing mass of water, were two men in lifejackets clinging desperately to the hull of their overturned boat.
How helpless we felt as we stood there and watched those two men struggling to hang on while wave after foaming wave crashed over them, pushing them ever closer to the menacing rocks. "Lord, help them," I prayed, "eternity is so near!"
Did they need to be told of their danger? No. They knew they desperately needed help. In one fearful moment they had been flung into the cold, turbulent waters and were facing death. How had it happened? Didn't they have a chart? a compass? NO one puts out to sea without those, especially in a fog! But friend, how is your frail craft faring on the great sea of life? Have you set out without chart or compass, or perhaps even without a captain? What is your final port of call?
Have you looked into those swirling green waters and seen the fearful rocks and reefs of trouble and been swept along on a tide of overwhelming grief and pain? Have you risen on a mighty wave of happiness and success, only to be plunged into the depths of agony and despair? Have you longed for that anchor you forgot, that could have steadied your vessel from its weary and endless drifting? And now, perhaps, you see the rocks ahead and feel you are about to face shipwreck.
Friend, there is hope: "Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and He bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh the storm a calm."
Psalm 107:28, 29.
On the beach below us three men hurriedly pulled on their wet suits and fins. Five or six men with ropes scrambled out on the rocks, dodging the flying spray. Beyond the rocks and to one side were two coast guard rescue boats, standing just off the heaving swells. Help surrounded the two men, but could not get to them. How long could they hold on? Coughing and choking as the cold salty waters submerged them again and again, they clung to the boat in desperation. Still the ruthless tides carried them closer and closer to destruction, and no one could help them.
A whining sound made be turn, and there coming over the harbor was a coast guard helicopter. The silent group of onlookers sent up a cheer. What a surge of strength that sight must have given to those numb and weary bodies, if it wasn't too late!
Too late! What awful words! It isn't too late for you. Jesus has been into death already in your place and mine. He has borne the punishment for my sins by shedding His precious blood on Calvary's cross. Now He longs to be your captain, to guide your vessel, to be your anchor from the unstable tides of life and, best of all, to be your "life preserver" forever. "Hold Thou me up, and I shall be safe." Psalm 119:117.
This rescue was to be very exacting as well as risky. The big helicopter swiftly circled, positioned, then carefully dropped lower and lower, the blast from the rotor sending spray in a big circle. While we watched, a cable was lowered with a basket-like seat on the end. There was a moment of suspense as we waited, then up it came with a man in the seat. Murmurs of relief were heard around us.
The helicopter repositioned and again the basket was lowered. It seemed much too long before it came up—empty! We strained our eyes searching the waves as again the cable went down. Suddenly, there he was, standing in the basket with his arms wrapped tightly around the cable.
Gently the big machine backed off the rocks, then swung him up into the cabin and safety. Now they were off to the warmth and care of the hospital. As they roared low over our vantage point arms were raised in a salute to the compassion and bravery of that crew. The drama was over, the rescue effected, and two lives saved from sure death. The onlookers melted away, each with his own thoughts.
God's Word tells us, "It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment." Are you safe...? or will you perish...?
"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3:16. Those men believed with all their heart that the helicopter was able to help them and on the strength of that faith they took hold of the basket and were saved. Won't you take hold of Christ by faith, now?
"Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved." Acts 4:12.
Taste and See
A little girl was eating an apple, and she exclaimed, "Oh, how sweet!"
"How sweet?" asked one near to her.
She replied, "I cannot tell you. Taste and see."
No preacher however eloquent, no book however clear, can tell you how good the Lord is. All we can say is, "Oh, taste and see!"