The Moravians in the Storm

On January 25, 1736, a violent Atlantic storm nearly split the ship Simmonds in two. The mainmast cracked. Seawater poured over the deck and flooded below. Passengers screamed. A young Anglican priest named John Wesley, on his way to the colony of Georgia, gripped whatever he could hold and felt certain he was about to die.

But in the middle of that chaos, Wesley noticed something astonishing. A group of Moravian missionaries — men, women, and children — sat together singing hymns. The ocean roared around them. The ship lurched and groaned. And they sang. When the storm finally passed, Wesley approached one of the Moravians and asked, "Were you not afraid?" The man answered simply, "No. Our women and children are not afraid to die."

Wesley was shaken — not by the storm, but by their peace. He had studied theology at Oxford. He had crossed an ocean to convert others. Yet these humble believers possessed something he did not: an unshakeable confidence that the Almighty held them, even when the mountains were falling into the sea.

The psalmist wrote that God is within His people, and they shall not be moved — not because the earth stops shaking, but because the One who makes wars cease and shatters spears is already present at the break of day. The Moravians knew what Wesley was still learning: when the nations rage and the waters roar, the God of Jacob is our refuge.