It was a dark and stormy night.
But storms come up fast and without warning at night on Lake Gennesaret. This one was particularly frightening. The waves rolled over the railing, threatening to sink the boat. As these seasoned fishermen shook in their sandals, wondering what to do, they realized that the One who had taught in such an amazing way that day was sleeping in the stern of the boat!
The disciples had learned much of the kingdom of God that day. They heard how the kingdom would grow and increase as it filled the earth. Implied was the amazing truth that God, as the sovereign creator of the world, would irresistibly drawn his people to himself. His kingdom would stand, as the prophets foretold. Though Jesus had concealed much from the crowds through the parables, he made it clear that he was explaining those truths to his disciples in plain language.
But when the storm whipped up, those thoughts were gone. Maybe they didn’t forget, but it sure wasn’t their focus. All they could ponder was their certain death at the hand of the capricious wind.
Somewhere in the back of their minds, they remembered that Jesus was powerful. Maybe one of them recalled the paralytic who walked at His command, or the withered hand that was made whole at a word. But even as they looked around to see how He could help, they saw that He was asleep. How could He sleep at a time like this?
Incredulously, they ran to His berth. I love the accuracy of the ESV, but the incomparable words of the KJV ring in my ears at this point: “Master, carest thou not that we perish?!” Don’t you realize that we are about to be destroyed in this tempest? Has it not crossed your mind that we are about to DIE?
It’s pretty easy for us to criticize the disciples. We’ve heard the story hundreds of times. We know that they had seen countless miracles already. Yet they still forgot who was in control.
I told a friend recently, “I will never criticize those disciples again!”
My family has been going through the storms. Financially, emotionally, spiritually, we feel the tossing of the boat. And it’s not just my immediate family. Other family members, dear friends – so many people I know are in the midst of circumstances that seem to leave no hope.
Perhaps you know how it feels. I’ll give you my personal experience as it stands right now: I know my Savior is there. But to be perfectly honest, I feel as though I’m crying out, “Don’t you know that I’m dying here?!” Yes, it feels like he’s asleep in the boat. He created it all, he controls it all, and I know intellectually that he has a purpose in it all, but it sure is hard to see right now.
Perhaps one day, we’ll be able to look back and see that the storms were good for us. That they strengthened us. But right now, it sure feels like it’s just going to kill us.
I can’t imagine how hard Paul must have had to swallow before he said, “I believe God, that he will save us all alive.” I wish I had that kind of faith! But for now, I must continue crying out, “Master, save us.” For it is he alone who can deliver. No matter how impossible it seems.
I say it to you, as I say it to myself every day. Through the tears, take heart. He has overcome.