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The silence in the library would be deafening, if it wasn’t for the overhead fans above and the constant clacking of my keyboard. I have been sitting in the same spot for the entire day, slowly tackling one page at a time... watching the cursor move gradually down the screen at an achingly slow pace. There is still a few hours left before closing time, but the mountain of work before me seems to never end.

Every so often, I stop to stare out the window. The gradual darkening of the sky is the only indication that time is passing. I rub my eyes, take a deep breath, and plunge back into my current assignment.

After seven hours of writing, the signs of wear are beginning to show on my face. My eyebrows are knitted deep as I force myself to keep going. Tears begin to sting my eyes. This… is too hard! The finish line seems unreachable as my mental wheels get caught up in a slough of discouragement and frustration.

Yes… Finals week hit with full force this week, and the last few days have found me riveted to my laptop plowing through 30 pages of research and writing. I laugh at myself as I write this, because from the looks of me, one would have thought that I had just been drafted for battle or signed up to do a death crawl or something. I assure you, it’s nothing that drastic. However, this latest “storm” on my otherwise calm educational sea has caused me to think about how I handle pressure when it comes…. and I’ll admit, I haven’t done a very good job at it this week.

The picture that comes to mind is a lone sailor on a small vessel. The sea is tumultuous and the breakers are lapping furiously against the sides of the little sailboat. The man has both hands on the oars as he strains every muscle to keep himself afloat and moving forward. The rough wood digs into his calloused hands and the sweat drips off his brow as he methodically works against the tide… but seems to be going nowhere. I would feel sorry for him.

However, imagine if you will … a brisk, strong breeze blowing over the sailor as he rows. Imagine, for a moment, that the sailor has a fully functional sail lying in the bottom of the boat beside him. It’s there – just waiting to aid him in his struggles... and yet he just leaves it and continues to fight against the waves by himself. The whole scene suddenly looks different. Would he rather be suffering alone instead of taking advantage of the natural help that is there to make his efforts more fruitful? All of a sudden, the sailor simply looks foolish.

Unfortunately, that sailor’s plight sounds embarrassingly similar to my own struggles. I've been that sailor this week ... trying to row through the storm by myself, rather than leaning on His grace. It’s not really the storm that matters, but how I weather it... and who I rely on to get me through.

“The reality of God’s presence is not dependent on any place, but only dependent upon the determination to set the Lord always before us. Our problems come when we refuse to bank on the reality of His presence. The experience the Psalmist speaks of – “Therefore will we not fear, though…” – will be ours when once we are based on Reality; not the consciousness of God’s presence but the reality of it – “Why He has been there all the time.” (Oswald Chambers)

Sometimes… I need to pull in my oars and put my sails up.