Several years ago, we took a trip to the tip of Lake Huron, arriving at our destination with just enough daylight to pitch our tent and settle in for the night.

The next morning, we stepped outside to discover that a thick, gray fog had quietly moved in overnight, covering the entire area like a heavy blanket. It was so dense that the small islands scattered along the shoreline were invisible and even the lake sounds were muffled.

We decided to launch our canoe anyway, carefully hugging the shoreline as we dipped our paddles into the silent waters. It was completely unsettling to have such limited sight and no visible landmarks to guide us. After traveling several miles with no change in the weather conditions, we decided to return to our campsite, which required a vigilant concentration on the water’s meandering edge.

Growing up near Lake Huron taught me to read and respect the ever-changing weather and lake conditions, which can suddenly switch from calm and welcoming to choppy and dangerous. Over the years, many ships have experienced the fury of its gale-force winds, with waves reaching over 20 feet high. Some could not withstand the fierce storms and broke apart, sinking beneath the restless waters.

Our Thunder Bay is the resting place for approximately 100 of those ships, earning it the name “Shipwreck Alley.”

We have seven strategically placed lighthouses in our area. Those towering structures were beacons of light and hope for sailors caught in the grip of a dangerous storm. The towers were critically important navigational aids, guiding the ships to safe harbor or warning them of treacherous shallows to avoid along the rocky shoals.

We are currently in the midst of a fierce, worldwide storm — one that is blowing into every nation and community, leaving no one untouched by its forceful attack. This is a storm like no other storm, one that exposes our weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

Our world is in turmoil and confusion, with leaders and experts doing their best to make the right decisions and steer our course.

It is at times like this that we realize the things we have trusted to anchor us and give us direction and security are not adequate for the task.

We need a lighthouse to guide us and illuminate the way to safe harbor.

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. If you follow Me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life (John 8:12).”

We need the spiritual illumination and hope that only God can give us. We need an unshakable foundation for our wind-swept lives.

Jesus explained that “everyone who hears My words and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds beat against the house, but it did not collapse because its foundation had been laid on rock (Matthew 7:24-25).”

At this Easter season and always, Jesus shines His light into the spiritual darkness of this world. He reaches out to calm the troubled waters of our soul and guide us to a place of peace and rest that can only be found in Him — for it is a peace that does not depend on outward circumstances.

This is His promise to all who will come to His light: “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid (John 14:27).”