On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
What an honest account. It’s raw and pointed and unvarnished. That’s the way our Father delivers His story.
The disciples, on a boat at Jesus’ request, now find themselves in the middle of a life-threatening storm. The wind was unrelenting, the waves were uncontrollable, and the boat was failing.
Jesus, understandably exhausted from the pace of His ministry schedule and the very personal nature of the demands on Him, was crashed out on a cushion in the back. That was until “they woke Him.”
They were desperate.
They were out of options.
They were frustrated and confused
With unguarded candor they yelled out – “Don’t you care?”
While the words are still airborne my mind races to friends and family that are facing unrelenting storms. I think about times in my own life when I’ve been convinced that an idea or dream, provoked by God, has led to chaos or panic or crisis or worse…
“Don’t you care?”
Jesus’ answer: “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?”
Absent, but implied in this response is the simple reality. “I’m here.” Jesus is present. The storm isn’t His adversary or His unexpected enemy – the storm is His partner, His classroom, His curriculum.
“Trust me.”
“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So we can confidently say,
“The Lord is my helper;
I will not fear;
what can man do to me?” (Hebrews 13:5-6)
What can man or any storm or any illness or any calamity or any brokenness or any condemnation or any force of evil do to me?
The Lord is my helper. At times He appears to be asleep on a cushion, but He’s present. Always present. Always active. Always in control.
Don’t mute your voice… cry out, “Don’t you care?”
And as you find your seat in the classroom of trust and faith and courage and peace… remember, you are in good company.
He cares. How deeply He cares.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
Then and now… He is with us.
{ 0 comments… add one now }