Storms Within

"So he got into the boat." Jesus was familiar with fishing boats. He often used them as a means to get away from the constant hustle of the incessant crowds. Sometimes when the crowds were so large, he would even teach from a boat giving more people the opportunity to see him and hear what he was teaching. In Matthew 8 beginning with verse 23 (printed below) Jesus had just completed a healing spree--a man with leprosy, the centurion's servant, Peter's mother-in-law, and a multitude of both demon-possessed and sick individuals found healing and new life in Jesus. Now, Jesus needs a break. "So he got into the boat." 

Jesus' disciples were not strangers to being on the water either. Several of these men were fishermen spending most days, prior to Jesus' calling, in a boat. And after seeing all that Jesus had done, they didn't hesitate to follow Jesus out into the deep sea. 

But this was not going to be the restful sabbath that they had in mind. Already in verse 24 of Matthew 8, we are told that suddenly or immediately "a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat." In Luke's gospel, he calls it "a squall." "...the boat was being swamped," Luke wrote, "...they were in great danger." This is no average thunderstorm. This is life or death. The boat is filling with water, the waves are tossing it this way and that, they are going to sink.

Similarly we have all been caught in life's storms. For some, theses storms are quite literal, for others, they are physical in nature, but for me, a storm always seems to be brewing deep within. There is a haze that hovers overhead. It's not a light fog, but dark, heavy clouds ready to burst. The anticipation and "what-ifs" are sometimes enough. Other times, the lightning will crash, the thunder will roar, and I will be immersed in the deep pool of my own thoughts and feelings. I've become accustomed to wading through knee deep waters. I have even learned to tread for long periods of time. Sometimes it's hours, sometimes days, other times whole seasons, even years. Living in the deep end requires strength. It requires perseverance. It requires that you keep your head above the water. . 

Aside from the clouds of depression above, there is danger lurking below. It keeps me alert. Paranoid. Anxious. Always moving from one place to another without the ability to focus or finish a thought. Too distracting to search for shallower waters and no chance of finding the shore. Just one tug. One pull from the danger beneath and it's over. Frozen in fear and head under water.

That's the reality of the kind of danger that Jesus and his disciples are experiencing as they sit in the boat. But, it can also be the strain of mental illness. It's the heaviness of depression mixed with the restlessness, or worse, the sheer panic of anxiety. It truly is a two-headed monster. Lurking. Both pushing and pulling. Constant and yet unpredictable. 

For three years this has been my constant reality. What began as postpartum after the birth of my twin boys held fast. Why can't I get over it? Why can't I feel grounded and secure? Why can't I experience deep joy? Enduring a constant storm isn't how life was intended to be lived. But we are not alone. Jesus is with us in our storm too.

While the disciples are fearing for their lives, Jesus is asleep. Jesus, in perfect relationship with the father, doesn't feel the same peril and actually is feeling a great peace in the storm. The disciples wake him, panicked. "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!" (Matthew 8:25). In Mark, the disciples even go so far as to accuse Jesus of indifference towards them. "...don't you care if we drown?" It's our natural human response. "If you cared, Jesus, you wouldn't make me endure this." "If you loved me, Lord, then you would rescue me." We've all thought these things at different points. "Why me, Jesus?"

Jesus' response to his disciples is significant. While he first gently rebukes their lack of faith, he then responds to the storm. He doesn't force his disciples to increase their faith before he will act. He saves them while they are still filled with doubt. We don't have to have a perfect faith for Jesus to hear us either--we just need to call out. We don't need to believe without a doubt but we must ask. We can and should expect our Savior to hear us even through the noise--the pounding waves and pelting rain--in our own lives, too. He is waiting to hear from you.

He may not respond in the timeliness or in the exact fashion that we might suggest. But the God of creation--the One who the wind and the waves obey--is certainly capable and willing to rescue us. He is certainly able to calm the storms in our lives. But, no matter His response, we can be assured, that Jesus is in our boat too. He is not an onlooker, but even if he chooses not to calm the storm immediately, He is enduring the deep, dangerous waters with us. So why not call out?

Image borrowed from Crossroads Initiative

Matthew 8:23-27

Jesus Calms the Storm

23 Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. 24 Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. 25 The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!”

26 He replied, “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.

27 The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!”