Charted

What is Charted?

Like a master surveyor, Jesus gives us clear directions to find a fulfilling, purpose-filled relationship with Himself - a map to the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Charted is a daily devotional written by the junior class at Fountainview Academy (Class of 2019). Based on the book Steps to Christ, this book explores the path to the Originator and Provider of Genuine Joy. We don't have to be confused about the way. The certainty is in the journey: divinely Charted.

And thine ears shall hear a word behind thee, saying, this is the way,
walk ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to the
left. – Isaiah 30:21 KJV
The playful summer wind blew in feigned ferocity over the
faded stalks of the sun-wilted grass, as though trying to revitalize its
parched playmates. Seeming to sense its failure in this endeavor,
the small but growing gale rushed over the lake’s calm surface.
Provoked by the whirlwind, the melancholic waters rapidly became
cross and stormy. White-capped waves soon rose in bitter protest.
The mischievous gust jubilantly exalted in finding something willing to
respond to its boundless energy and increased its speed in order to
send the ornery white-caps running for cover.
Meanwhile…
I contentedly strolled through the woods, enjoying the Sabbath
afternoon. A pleasant breeze played through the treetops as my family
happily walked and chatted, unaware of the adversity we would soon
discover. Emerging from the forest, we walked along the shore that
would lead back to our cozy campsite. As I picked my way between
the abstract fragments of stranded driftwood, I glanced down at the
spot where the tent was. To my surprise, the tent had been totally
overturned by the strong wind. Then, my heart almost stopped—the
canoes were gone!
The large waves had slowly rocked the canoes from the shore
on which we had pulled them, and they had drifted away. We had
paddled to this campsite in two canoes lashed together to make a
catamaran, and there was simply no way of crossing the lake without
them. As our family surveyed the now empty space where our canoes
had been, my dad remarked, “I think I remember instructing you to
throw the anchor in the water before we left.” He was right.
I had even felt impressed to set the anchor in the lake as
a measure to avoid losing the canoes should they drift, but I had
brushed the thought aside with the complacent argument that nothing
would happen. Why didn’t I listen? I thought regretfully.