The Storm

A few weeks ago I walked along the edge of an angry ocean. The Atlantic here on Virginia’s coast is not known for its furious waves, but that day they were churning mad–beating heavy and grey against the sandy shore.

For the moment, I thought to myself: even when the world feels frantic as the wind and the waves in a storm, the peace God gives surpasses understanding. Why do we waste our fleeting moments then– why do we live them out in a haze of worry? It’s as if we are the disciples described in Matthew 8, clamoring loud on the boat: “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” (25)

And Jesus, He’s asleep. Resting in the perfect peace that He gives, the perfect peace that He is. Me, though– I am begging Him to wake up: it’s urgent. Because I can’t see further than the present circumstances which seem insurmountable. The wind howls; the waves are wretched; water fills the boat, and we are going to drown. That’s not how Jesus sees it, though: “‘You of little faith, why are you so afraid?’ Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm” (26).

I can recognize doubt as distortion when I see through the lens of God’s sovereignty. I may be in the boat that feels rickety and worn, but He is there too. He is with me, gripping me with the certainty that despite the strength of the storm, He is stronger still.

2 thoughts on “The Storm

  1. Jesus has been sleeping in my boat this week as well. I’ve been in Mark 4 and Jeremiah 15…me and Eeyore…. I smile in recognition when I see the disciples afraid of the waves, then afraid of the quiet. And I cringe at their whining and distrust that I know so well. Your words are an encouragement to this Eeyore heart.

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