The air was heavy. Sighs were deep. The storms had battered and beaten every soul that walked through the doors. You could see it in the eyes of every life’s sailor. One by one they filed into the auditorium. These voyagers were weathered. You could see that their past and present were almost to a breaking point. In fact it was as if they did not, or even could not, look to the future, because the storms had beaten their ships of life. It was as if this harbor came just at the right time. Rest was on the horizon…even if just for an hour. In fact most knew that even though reprieve was momentary, they were going to have to get back in the boat of life and hit the waters again.
Last night some 300+ folks joined together as broken and weathered sailors of this thing called life. Our community of believers came together last night to simply worship. We sang, encouraged, rested, celebrated, and dreamed. If but for a few moments, their individual storms subsided. Every one of us brought something into that place last night. Yet, every one of us received the same thing last night—at least I hope we did. Amidst the storm, there was a calm. Some of us were in mourning, yet again, for another person who was taken from us sooner than we would have liked or imagined. Some were dealing with their past hurts and struggles. Some were navigating their present storms of life. Most of us were not even in a place when we could begin to think about our future or our hope. These ships of life came into the harbor last night battered and beaten up. But they made it to the harbor.