Sailing in a tiny boat
in the middle of the sea,
the boatman steered
with a single string.

We were exposed to the elements,
but this was the only way
to the far-flung island.

Midway through the journey,
a drizzle began.
Without warning,
the sea turned choppy.

Our small boat was tossed by the waves.
Someone ordered the sail to be lowered.
Passengers sprang into action,
instinctively spreading themselves
across the horizontal bamboo frames
that supported the sail.

They balanced the weight,
steadying the boat,
preventing it from capsizing.

Those who remained seated,
myself included,
felt the rise and fall of the waves,
no different from a roller-coaster ride.

There was no landmark ahead.
No compass.
The wind was relentless.
Everyone was soaked.

Fear began to creep in.
I asked,
“Can’t we turn back?”
The boatman shook his head.
“We’re halfway there.
No turning back.”

This man was calling the shots?
I asked him,
“How do you know the way?”
He turned to me
and said with confidence,
“I am the way.”

Teach me to trust
when there is no landmark ahead,
when the winds are unrelenting,
and when I can only move forward.
Remind me that faith
is not knowing where I am going,
but knowing
who is guiding the way.