DAN MATTHEWS as a boy had been wild and reckless. The one thing he loved was the sea. He was daring beyond all the boys of his age, and men, hardened by the life of the sea, would not have dared to do the things he did.
He would have nothing to do with religion, however, and scoffed at the Bible. His unbelief grew as he got older. Hour after hour, as he and his mates sat about the stove on board ship, or on the dock, with forceful language and powerful argument he would “prove,” as he thought, that the Bible was an idle tale and
God was a myth.
One night the fishing fleet was far out at sea when a dreadful hurricane came up, nets were cut adrift and every boat made for the harbor. It was such a wild tempest that even Dan became alarmed. He says it was the first time in his life that he was really afraid.
He had a friend and companion, Tom Rogers, who was a Christian and who had often tried to lead him to trust in God. Tom was at the wheel with him when the great sea broke over the bows and swept the little craft from stem to stern. Tom was torn from the wheel and hurled into the water. Dan never saw him again.
There was no time to think or grieve over the loss of his friend. It was now a desperate and lonely struggle to reach the shore. It seemed like hours of terror that he clung to the wheel, driving on and on through the darkness with no sign of the harbor light. He was long strength, realizing that he could not carry on much longer. Icy winds chilled him to the bone. The spray that broke in clouds over the little ship blinded him and cut his face.
He thought he must be near the harbor, but unknown to him the light had been blown out by the gale. Beyond the gleam of the white breakers there was
nothing but intense blackness.
Through the roar of the wind he could hear waves beating against the breakwater like distant thunder, and his heart seemed to freeze with fear.
In that terrible moment he did what he never thought he would do. He prayed. Despairing, utterly helpless, and hopeless, he cried to God for help. It was only the cry of despair: “O God, help me!” But what claim had the likes of him on the God whom he had mocked and despised?
Yet God, “who is rich in mercy,” heard that cry above the howling gale, and answered.
A strange thing happened. Dan felt that a strong hand was on the wheel, turning it in spite of his own despairing grip, turning it, and swinging the vessel from its course; in a moment the fury of the wind dropped. They had steered through the harbor mouth into the quieter waters of the harbor.
What Dan Matthews felt at that moment he can never describe. At first he was terribly afraid. He knew—yes—he knew that
God had taken the wheel
from his hand and brought him into the harbor. And he was afraid of the Unseen Helmsman whom he had mocked and ridiculed. But it changed his whole life; he had the courage to tell his mates what had happened, and how God had come to his help.
As soon as he was able he came straight to the little mission hall in the town to ask for help and guidance. There were those there who were only too glad to point poor Dan to the Saviour who loved him and died for him, and he knew himself “a sinner saved by grace.” Night after night he would be seen at the mission, always alert and eager, joining heartily in the singing, and never tired of telling all who would listen the wonderful story of the Unseen Helmsman. The time came when that same strong and loving hand steered his frail bark into the haven of rest, into the heavenly harbor, to be forever with the Lord.
ML-02/06/1972