When the Storm Won't Stop
I gave up sleeping and grabbed my iPhone. 2:47 a.m. The morning couldn't come soon enough, even if I was dreading going to work. How long had I been awake, reciting Philippians 4 and asking God for peace? I felt anxious and spiritually defeated. What did it say about me that the distraction of email and social media gave more relief than my faith?
Mark 4:35-41
On that day, when evening had come, he told them, "Let's cross over to the other side of the sea." So they left the crowd and took him along since he was in the boat. And other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking over the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. (The Sea of Galilee is notorious for sudden, violent storms that trap even experienced fishermen.) He was in the stern, sleeping on the cushion. So they woke him up and said to him, "Teacher! Don't you care that we're going to die?" He got up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Silence! Be still!" The wind ceased, and there was a great calm. Then he said to them, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" And they were terrified and asked one another, "Who then is this? Even the wind and the sea obey him!"
"Don't you care?" is the question I've whispered at 3 a.m. more times than I'd like to admit. It's the prayer that feels more like a hostile accusation than anything else. Jesus asleep on a cushion while we're drowning is exactly how God feels when the anxiety won't stop. He's checked out, distant, unbothered by what's destroying us. The disciples were tough—sun-worn fishermen with salt in their hair and hands as rough as rope. If they were panicking, then Mark's description of a "great windstorm" is an understatement. And what does Jesus do? He doesn't wait for them to get their theology right or their breathing under control. He wakes up and handles the threat. Jesus saves them while they're failing. I've catastrophized meetings that went fine, emails that were never sent, and conversations that never happened. The storm in my head was entirely imaginary, but my body and soul didn't know the difference. I still woke up exhausted. When Jesus says, "Silence! Be still!", he uses a Greek word that appears elsewhere when he silences demons. Mark wants us to see that the chaos in our lives, whether it's waves crashing over the bow or the spiral of thoughts crashing over our minds at 3 a.m., is more than cause and effect. It's evidence that our world is invaded by a hostile force. And so, Jesus is the right person to approach, even if it seems like he's not engaged. The disciples wanted the storm to go away. Jesus wanted their misplaced fear to go away. He asks them why, after all they've seen, they still lack faith. "They were terrified," Mark says. But terrified of what? They moved from panic about what the storm might do to an unsettling awe at who was next to them. We never graduate from fear. We redirect it.
Reflection Questions
The disciples personally witnessed Jesus doing miracles, and still wondered if he cared. What does that tell you about the gap between what we know and what we feel in a crisis?
"Don't you care?" is a vulnerable accusation. What hesitations do you feel about bringing the full force of your fears to God?
The disciples' fear shifted from the storm to Jesus. If you lived in awe of Jesus, how would that change how you feel about your circumstances?
One Thing to Try
Our bodies often can't tell the difference between a real threat and an imagined one. There's no instant fix for anxiety, but try this the next time you can't stop worrying: Put your hand on your chest. Feel your heartbeat. Take one slow breath—four counts in, six counts out. Then text a friend one sentence: "I'm struggling with anxiety. Pray I remember that Jesus is with me."