The main point of today’s post takes a little bit of time to set up, so I hope you’ll bear with me as I lay all the groundwork. That groundwork involves a brief overview of Acts chapter 27. In that chapter, we are given Luke’s highly detailed account of Paul’s fateful voyage to Rome.
Technically, Paul sailed as a prisoner of the Roman empire, along with some fellow prisoners (v.1). Despite that fact, however, Julius, who was the Roman centurion in charge of the prisoners, treated Paul kindly. He even allowed him to go ashore during a port of call at Sidon to receive care from friends (v.3). Later on, at the port of Myra, Julius, Paul, and the other prisoners changed ships and boarded an Alexandrian cargo ship (v.6). Their inclusion raised the ship’s total number of passengers to 276 (v.37).
It was at this point of the journey that the winds turned contrary and the sailing became difficult (v.7). They managed to sail from Myra toward the island of Cnidus and then southwest to the south side of Crete, but the weather was against them all the way and caused them to make slow time. (The weather on the Mediterranean Sea during that time of year — late September to early October — was usually harsh.) Finally, they harbored at a place called Fair Havens just off the coast of Crete (v.8).
There, Paul advised Julius and the others in charge to suspend the journey and ride out the winter in Fair Havens, lest the voyage end in much loss of life and cargo (v.9-10). The problem, however, with them heeding Paul’s advice was that the Fair Havens harbor was not really an ideal place for such a long-term stay. That’s why Julius, along with the ship’s helmsman and the ship’s owner, ignored the advice and made the decision to sail on for the Crete harbor of Phoenix, which would be more suitable (v.11-12). Their plan was to reach Phoenix by skirting along the coastline, thus avoiding the open sea. Much to their delight, after they had settled on that plan, an advantageous south wind began to blow softly. Human nature being what it is, they took that gentle south wind as confirmation that their decision to sail for the Phoenix harbor was the correct one and promptly weighed anchor (v.13).
But they were wrong. Not long into the sailing, the ship got caught in a hurricane-like storm, which was an incredibly powerful northeaster. The storm drove the ship helplessly out into the open sea (v.14-15), and from there it was one adventurous episode after another. They managed to make it to the small island of Cauda (or Clauda), which was twenty-five miles south of Crete. There, they pulled in the skiff (lifeboat) they had in tow and tried to shore up the ship as best they could (v.16-17). The storm, however, continued to rage.
Fearing they would be run aground on a sandbar, they set sail again and let the winds drive them back out into the open sea (v.17). The following day, with the ship now severely battered, they lightened the load by throwing the cargo overboard (v.18), and the day afterward they threw over the rigging (v.19). Thus began a period where they saw neither the sun nor the stars for several days and constantly battled a strong wind (v.20). They sailed for days without even taking time to eat and finally gave up all hope of survival (v.20-21).
That’s when Paul stood up in the midst of them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me.” You’ve got to love that “I told you so” moment. Mercifully, though, that wasn’t all Paul said. He went on to explain that an angel had stood by him and told him that Paul must be brought before Caesar so that he could testify to Caesar. For this reason, the men needn’t fear for their lives. The ship would indeed be lost by being run aground on some island, but not one human life would be lost in the wreck (v.21-26).
I won’t go into all the remaining details of the story, but the ship eventually shipwrecked at the large island of Malta, some sixty miles south of Sicily. With the ship broken up, every man aboard took to the water, either swimming or floating on boards or other parts of the broken ship, and made it safely onto the island. In two-weeks-time, the great storm had carried them 600 miles from Fair Havens in Crete to shipwreck on Malta. As Paul had said, though, not one life had been lost. For the next three months, the group remained on Malta as the welcomed guests of the people there and then boarded another Alexandrian ship and sailed on to Rome (Acts 28:11-16). Whew, what a trip!
Obviously, there are a hundred life-lessons and spiritual truths that I could pull from this whole story, but let me just latch onto just one and leave it with you. It goes like this: When you step out of God’s will and do something you shouldn’t do, things oftentimes go well for a little while before the storm breaks loose. Do you remember what happened right after those men ignored Paul advice about spending the winter in Fair Havens and decided instead to try to skirt down the coastline to the harbor of Phoenix? Acts 27:13-14 says:
When a gentle south wind began to blow, they thought they had obtained what they wanted; so they weighed anchor and sailed along the shore of Crete. Before very long, a wind of hurricane force, called a “northeaster,” swept down from the island. (N.I.V., emphasis mine)
Ladies and gentlemen, let me warn you about those south winds that blow softly to initially make your wrong course of action seem like a good move. Beware, such winds are always followed by a big storm! And when that hurricane-force wind starts blowing, who knows where you might end up out on life’s open sea? Surely it won’t be a good place, and surely some type of a shipwreck will be eminent.
So, where does this post find you right now? Are you toying around with choosing a course of action that isn’t God’s will? Do you feel those south winds rising, beckoning you out into forbidden waters? Are you thinking, “I’ll just safely ease down this coastline and keep out of the dangerous open sea?” If any of this describes you, allow me to play the same role that Paul played for those men. Hear me when I say, “Don’t do what you are planning to do!”
You say, “But Russell, you don’t understand my current situation. You don’t know what a struggle I’m having. You don’t know how rough it’s been. I can’t stay here!” Yes, you can. If God wants you to ride out the storm by spending the winter there in your Fair Haven, He’ll make a way for you to do so. You just have to trust Him. Most likely there will come a time when He will let you set sail for a new place in His will, but you must wait for His perfect timing. And if being told to stay where you are upsets you, just keep your alternative in mind: You can chase those south winds to what you think is a better, safer, more pleasing situation. If that’s your course of action, though, don’t be surprised when major trouble hits you right on the heels of those fleeting soft winds.
