At a certain summer resort on the Atlantic Coast, a little child used to delight in watching some fishermen as they would row out through the surf to bring in their haul from the deep-sea fishing grounds. At about the same hour each afternoon the cry would go around, "The boats are going out!" and everyone would hurry to the beach to see this daring battle with the waves, which were usually very heavy on that exposed stretch of shore line.

Except for being large, and strongly reinforced, the boats were only ordinary rowboats, equipped with two pairs of oars; and the men would run the boats out over the sand into the shallow water, then jump in and begin rowing. Straight out into the ocean they would go, the breakers covering them with spray, and beating and buffeting their little craft until it seemed at any moment about to capsize. Although at times they would be carried almost back to shore in the rush of the swirling waters, they never stopped rowing. That was the point which seemed most particularly to impress those watching on the beach. No matter how rough the sea, how strong the tide, how contrary the wind, those oars were never still. Though constantly diverted from its course, the bow would ultimately swing back until it pointed out to sea again, and on the rowers would go—and on—and on—in exact co-ordination, until they were safe in the comparatively smooth water beyond.

The little child, grown older, has never forgotten those weather-beaten men in their dripping tarpaulins, successfully defying every effort of a fiercely opposing power, ever determined to drive them back. It was a glorious sight! Yet their struggle seemed, in some ways, no more difficult, perhaps, than the one which may confront some young student of Christian Science when he leaves the shelter of a home where love and peace and harmony have always reigned, to find himself facing for the first time a world of new conditions. As one demand after another is made upon his time and effort, he may feel frightened and confused, even becoming actually apprehensive lest some sudden wave of error should swamp his little boat, and plunge him into a sea of defeat and humiliation.

If anyone who is undertaking new work, amid new surroundings, feels that he is in need of a word of comfort, let him remember that it was through meeting and conquering adverse conditions that those untried sailors developed into strong and sturdy seamen. No coward could have manipulated those fishing boats. No weakling could have manipulated those heavy oars. Only by reason of facing their allotted task daily, cheerfully, obediently, and without fear, did those men attain their strength and their skill. The same is true of the Christian Scientist who is being called upon to demonstrate his dominion over some difficulty. He who would prove that he is neither a coward nor a weakling may learn some valuable lessons from our fisher friends of long ago.

In the first place, the men never stopped rowing. Although there were moments when they seemed to be making no progress at all, and their rowing seemed to be only a purposeless up-and-down movement of the oars, yet the oars were doing their work. There the boat would stay, apparently in one spot, just marking time, as our military friends would put it, while the waves came rolling in like an endless procession of marching soldiers with white-plumed helmets. But the rowers never seemed to notice the waves. While they were aimlessly tossing up and down, apparently doing nothing but getting drenched, their eyes were all the time fixed on the man at the rudder. They knew that he was ever looking ahead—watching. For all waves are not alike. Some are larger than others, and they all come in at just a little different angle. But the helmsman understood. When just the right wave appeared, there would be a quick word of command, the oars, which had been steadying the boat, would spring into action, and the boat would speed ahead, perhaps gaining thirty or forty feet before again being stayed on its course. But, oh, the joy of it, when the last breaker was passed, and their boat slipped out into the rippling blue!

Christian Science teaches us to know who is at the helm in our human affairs. Are we always willing to wait for a clear word of command to go forward? Or do we just want to go forward anyway, perhaps before the way is safe? One may be so filled with human eagerness and impatience that he fails to hear the voice of Truth. Untempered zeal, however, is sometimes as disastrous to an individual, or to a cause, as is lazy procrastination. Impatience, in the last analysis, is lack of faith in God. Impatience leads to fear and discouragement, and they, in turn, may beguile one into grasping desperately at something which he would have seen, had he acted less hastily, as not Love's plan for him at all. In fact, he often wonders, later on, how he could ever have mistaken that impulse for divine guidance! It was because he looked at the waves, and not at the helmsman.

The helmsman waited for and took advantage of the wave which would best help him on his way—not carry him back. Our dear Leader, Mary Baker Eddy, once wrote (Miscellaneous Writings, p. 117): "According to my calendar, God's time and mortals' differ. . . . The disobedient make their moves before God makes His, or make them too late to follow Him. Be sure that God directs your way; then, hasten to follow under every circumstance." Those at the oars knew that the helmsman would tell them what to do. He had never failed them. Nor will God fail us.

To those about to encounter a new and very trying experience, our loving Master once said, "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." No matter how hopeless it may sometimes seem to maintain one's poise and mental balance under stress of untoward circumstance, God is right there to help us through. Keep close to Him. Divine Love asks no impossible task. In His sight there is no insurmountable obstacle, no limited intelligence, no ungovernable impulse, no unconquerable habit, no distressing sickness, no lack of ability, strength, or opportunity. Man is never friendless and alone, homesick and discouraged. Though the waves of error beat as they may, they cannot destroy the forever relationship between God and man, which remains undisturbed, unbroken. Never admit defeat. Never give up. God is at the helm. Trust Him—and keep rowing.