Beyond the Armada

 “So he answered, ‘Do not fear, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.’
And Elisha prayed, and said, ‘Lord, I pray, open his eyes that he may see.’
Then the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw.
And behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”
— 2 Kings 6:16–17 (NKJV)

I see the enemy’s ships drawing closer every day. Their sails fill with a wind that is strong, their line tight and determined. I can hear the rhythm of their oars — steady, unrelenting, closing the distance. And I’ll be honest, it scares me. And it should scare me. Because what I see is not illusion; it is the reality of a world that has turned against the light of God.

I see evidence of the enemy even invading the lines — slipping between the vessels of the Armada, sowing confusion and mistrust, tempting one boat to turn against another. The threat is not only out there; it is already among us. And yet even this does not take God by surprise.

But when I lift my gaze beyond the enemy Armada, I begin to see something else — not instead of the danger, but surrounding it. I remember that what surrounds us is itself surrounded. The same God who opened the servant’s eyes still commands His host. The same Commander who calls each of our boats into formation is still at the helm.

So I steady myself and look again. The enemy’s oars still beat their rhythm, but so does another — quieter, stronger, divine. It is the rhythm of purpose, the movement of God’s will among His people. We are not adrift; we are being positioned. The tightening of the lines, the shaking of the sails, even the pressure of the wind — all serve His purpose.

Perhaps God is using this threat not to destroy His Armada but to awaken it — to remind us that our strength was never in our numbers or formation, but in our obedience. The enemy may press close, but their advance may yet become the wind that fills our sails and drives us forward under His command.

So I return to my own boat. I ready it once more. I tie the ropes, check the rudder, look to the Commander’s flag. I cannot calm the sea or stop the approach of the enemy, but I can prepare to move when He gives the word.

And as I look beyond the Armada, beyond the storm and the threat, I see a greater light breaking on the horizon. The same light that terrified Saul and steadied David, that blinded Paul and guided the Magi — the light of the One who reigns above every army and every sea.

And that, I think, is enough for today.

“For You have been a shelter for me,
A strong tower from the enemy.
I will abide in Your tabernacle forever;
I will trust in the shelter of Your wings.”
— Psalm 61:3–4 (NKJV)