Unwavering

(Inspired by James 1:6 — “But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering…”)

I have watched the sea at night
when it cannot remember itself.
No moon to steady it.
No shoreline to answer its questions.
Only motion—
endless, restless, uncommitted.

The wind does not ask permission.
It takes hold.
Drags the water first one way, then another,
until direction dissolves
and even the stars feel far away.

That is the soul that prays without trust—
asking God,
yet bracing for disappointment.
A prayer released,
then retrieved.
Hope spoken,
then quietly undone.

The words rise,
but they do not stay risen.
They scatter like spray in a storm—
caught by every doubt,
redirected by every fear,
never landing long enough
to become obedience.

But faith—
faith does not chase calm.
It anchors.

It sinks deep into what cannot be seen,
locks itself into bedrock beneath the waves,
and refuses to negotiate with the wind.
Faith is not loud.
It is resolved.

It remembers what the storm forgets:
that the One who spoke,
“Peace, be still,”
did not borrow authority from the sea—
He gave it.

So I will ask.
Not as one pacing the shoreline,
measuring outcomes,
counting escape routes.

I will ask as one who has chosen
where to stand.
Feet planted.
Grip firm.
Heart settled.

The wind may rise.
The waters may argue.
But I will not be carried.

I am anchored—
not in answers,
not in outcomes,
but in His word,
and in the hands
that have never once let go.

If this poem stirred something in your heart, remember that the deepest roots grow from God’s Word itself. “Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee” (Psalm 119:11). If you’d like simple, practical help in tucking Scripture into memory…

👉 Sign up for the free FAST Crash Course in Bible Memorization: http://fast.st/cc/21419