Anchored in the Storm

Anchored in the Storm:

by Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

Life is not a placid lake or a swimming pool on a summer’s day. Life is the vast, angry ocean. Beautiful, yes but brutal. It will toss you, twist you, and try to pull you under until your soul feels waterlogged and your breath comes in short gasps of prayer.

I've lived in that ocean.

I’ve stared at the sky with tired eyes and whispered, “God… how much more?” I’ve been adrift no compass, no crew, just pain in my chest and a storm overhead. The waves of life didn’t just splash me; they swallowed me.

Let me tell it plain:

I fought depression until it sat heavy on my chest like an invisible giant. I fought anxiety, that racing beast that never lets your thoughts rest. I wrestled with stress so sharp it gave me spiritual splinters. I faced failure so many times, I started collecting it like sea glass. And yes… I faced suicidal thoughts. Dark, quiet whispers that told me I was expendable, forgettable, broken beyond repair. The kind of whispers that float in during lonely nights and ride in on tears.

I failed so much I started to think I was failure. I questioned my worth. I questioned my place. I even questioned whether my absence would be more peaceful than my presence.

And just when I thought I couldn’t fall any further people dropped me too.

I was taunted, abused, abandoned by those who once claimed to love me. Some of them waited until I was down to kick me. Some walked away when they realized I couldn’t be their superhero on command. They left when I didn’t shine. They cheated, lied, and went looking for someone with smoother sails and less storm damage. But I wasn’t a luxury yacht I was a survivor's raft. And that scared them.

What they didn’t know is that every betrayal became part of my boat. Every crack turned into character. Every scar was a map of the oceans I’ve crossed and lived to tell about.

I’ve been the man who loved without condition and got a receipt of rejection in return. I’ve been the one holding it together while crumbling inside. And in all that chaos, I still had to row. Still had to live. Still had to believe in something even if it was just the sound of my grandmother’s voice echoing in my soul saying, “Keep going, baby. You got God.”

They say when the boat is sideways to the waves, it rocks harder, and the seasickness kicks in. And I felt that in my spirit. Life had me sideways tilted, off-balance, almost gone. But then I remembered: Drop the sea anchor.

What is the anchor?

It’s the stillness of faith. It’s divine whisper. It’s every tear turned into a testimony. It's the sacred reminders that even when you don’t feel strong you’re still here. And that means God ain’t finished.

I dropped my spiritual sea anchor, and the chaos slowed. Not gone but tamed. Just enough to let me breathe again. Just enough to write one more line, take one more step, say one more prayer.

When you’ve been out on the waters of heartbreak and rejection, you learn to claim your raft. When people and life treat you like a side character in your own story, you grab your whistle and blow it loud. You say, “This is my soul. This is my peace. I may not have what you wanted when you wanted it but I have God, and I have breath, and I will not be erased.”

There are steps to surviving with broken hearts and wild beasts.

Step one: Choose a day when the waves are steady not calm, but steady.

Step two: Face the storm with your lifeboat turned forward, and speak peace into your own soul.

Step three: Let those who can’t handle your sea sickness find another boat.

Step four: Know your value isn’t based on how easy you are to love when the sun is shining it’s based on how anchored you stay when all hell breaks loose.

I didn't just fight to stay alive I fought to stay me.

And now? I don’t just exist I witness.

I witness what it's like to be dragged, betrayed, and torn open by life... and still emerge with enough love left to give.

I’ve turned my pain into prose. My tears into teaching. My despair into depth.

I still wish I had known romantic love the way I dreamed it to be held, supported, stood beside through the storm. But maybe… maybe the Creator used that space in my heart to fill it with something wider. Something eternal.

Today, I love with clearer eyes. I hold compassion for the broken, the abandoned, the rejected. Because I am them. And they are me.

So if you're drifting today, heart bruised, soul aching, mind running laps around your pain hold on.

Drop your anchor.

Rest when you can.

Tell your story.

Cry out loud if you must.

But don’t give up.

You're not alone in your ocean.

The winds may slap. The rains may blind. But the hand of God is always near the lifeboat, always whispering, “You're not done. I’m still with you.”

And as long as He’s with you?

You will not sink.

Reflection Written by Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

Storm-walker. Soul-survivor. Witness.