There are days my faith feels like a voyage—wind in the sails, waves beneath the hull, and an unseen destination drawing me forward. I look at the horizon of my own life and realize something sobering: I am always moving. The only question is toward what—and by what compass.

Scripture does not invite us to drift. It commands us to draw near.

“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16)

The throne of grace is not a poetic idea. It is a real and holy reality: God reigns, and sinners are summoned—not to perform, but to come. Not to negotiate, but to kneel. Not to hide, but to confess.

And that’s where the voyage becomes uncomfortable.

The ocean is honest about what’s in the ship

When the waves rise, the vessel reveals what it’s carrying. Storms don’t invent what’s inside me—they uncover it.

• A harsh word reveals stored-up pride.
• A fearful mind reveals unbelief.
• A secret indulgence reveals love of darkness.
• A stubborn grudge reveals a heart that wants justice for others and mercy for itself.

Sin is not only “big failures.” It is the quiet, constant bent of the heart that resists God’s authority and rebrands self-rule as normal.

And if I’m honest, I don’t just need calm seas. I need a new heart.

The throne is radiant—but not because I deserve it

Here’s the scandal of the gospel: the throne I deserve to approach is a throne of judgment. I have sinned against light. I have ignored warnings. I have loved comfort more than Christ.

If God were only holy, I would have no hope.

But God is holy and He has made a way.

Jesus Christ is not merely a guide standing on the shore calling, “Row harder.” He is the Savior who came into the storm for us. He lived without sin, died in our place, and rose in victory—so that sinners who deserve wrath might receive mercy without God compromising His justice.

The throne of grace is not grace because God lowered His standards. It is grace because Christ bore the cost.

“Since then we have a great high priest… Jesus, the Son of God… let us hold fast our confession.” (Hebrews 4:14)

If you belong to Christ, your confidence is not in your stability—it’s in His priesthood. Your access is not based on your recent performance—it’s based on His finished work.

Grace is not permission to drift

We must say this plainly because our hearts are skilled at twisting good news into self-protection: grace is not a hall pass for disobedience.

Some people hear “throne of grace” and assume God is safe to ignore.

But Scripture warns us: the same God who welcomes the repentant resists the proud.

Grace does not coddle sin—it conquers it. It forgives, cleanses, and then teaches us to walk in newness of life. If my “confidence” produces complacency, it is not biblical confidence. It is presumption wearing religious language.

Repentance is turning the ship

If you feel far from God, hear this: the answer is not to pretend you’re near. The answer is to turn.

Repentance is not mere regret. It is a Spirit-wrought change of mind that produces a change of direction. It is coming into the light with no excuses.

It sounds like:

• “Lord, I have been nursing this sin.”
• “I have justified what You forbid.”
• “I’ve called it stress, temperament, or weakness—but it is rebellion.”
• “Have mercy on me, a sinner.”

And here is the promise: when you come to Christ like that, you do not find a locked door.

You find mercy.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)

Setting sail today: three simple acts of faith

If you want to “set sail” toward the throne of grace in a way that is real and not merely emotional, try this:

1. Name the sin plainly.
   Don’t soften it. Don’t excuse it. Drag it into the light.
2. Confess it to God and ask for help.
   Not vague spirituality—specific confession, specific plea.
3. Take one step of obedience that proves repentance is real.
   Delete the app. Make the call. Ask forgiveness. Cut the compromise. Seek accountability. Open your Bible. Pray while it still feels hard.

God’s grace is help “in time of need.” Not after you’ve conquered the need.

The destination is not merely heaven—it is Christ

A ship in the image of my mind moves across shining waves toward a radiant throne. But the true glory is not architecture, light beams, or golden gates.

The glory is the King.

If you have Christ, you have everything. If you don’t have Christ, even your “spirituality” is only ocean mist.

So come. Draw near. Not because you are worthy, but because He is willing.

And if you are tired—good. Tired people stop trusting themselves. The throne of grace is for people who know they need grace.

A short prayer

Lord Jesus, expose what I’ve been hiding. Break my love of sin. Give me true repentance and living faith. Teach me to draw near with confidence—not in myself, but in You. Amen.