The saviour led me into a boat with words I soon forgot:
Let’s go to the other side of the lake
And then the saviour slept.
The saviour slept as a swirling storm descended.
I want you to see the contrast. I was sailing, striving and the saviour was sleeping, silent.
Have you ever been there?
God has led you somewhere and on the journey you start to wonder if he’s got you on the boat under false pretenses. You know the other side of the lake is your destination but he never told you there would be a storm on the way.
The storm is always loud. And Jesus is all too often silent.
But he was still there in the storm with me. We had got in the boat together, he journeyed with me.
He had no fear. But I had no faith.
And in our storm we try to wake God up, or call him down into the boat when he’s already there.
We forget two things. He made the wind and the waves, and he as already assured us of our destination.
Then the rebuke.
Our loving saviour rebukes the storm. “How dare you touch my child?”
And all is calm.
The same rest that Jesus knew in the storm now radiates from here to the horizon. Nothing has changed for Jesus. He was calm before, he is calm now. In a divine moment his will is done on earth and all is calm.
Then the real rebuke.
Where is your faith?
The focus of my fear shifts from storm to saviour.
Who is this man?
Well I’ll tell you who he is. He’s the guy who got you in the boat and the God who will never leave you. He’s the captain of the ship and the saviour in the storm. So shout at him if you need to, or come aside and rest with him in the storm if you dare. But be assured, he may be silent, but he is always, always there.