Sleeping Through The Storm
The Miracle We Often Miss
“But Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion.” — Mark 4:38
Every time I read the story of Jesus calming the storm, my attention keeps returning to something most of us rush past.
Not the wind.
Not the waves.
Not even the miracle of calming the storm.
Jesus was sleeping.
I try to imagine the scene. The boat is being tossed violently. Water is coming over the sides. Experienced fishermen are convinced they may not survive the night.
And somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, Jesus is asleep.
The older I get, the more remarkable that seems.
Two Ways Of Seeing The Same Storm
The disciples and Jesus were in the same boat.
They felt the same wind.
They heard the same thunder.
They watched the same waves crash over the side.
The storm was real for all of them.
Yet while the disciples were overwhelmed by what was happening around them, Jesus was resting in Someone greater than what surrounded Him.
I wonder what it was like to look at the waves and then look at Jesus.
To hear the storm and then see Him sleeping.
The Relationship Behind The Rest
When they finally wake Him, their question is one many of us have asked:
“Don't You care?”
Fear often asks that question.
Yet Jesus never seems shaken by the storm or troubled by their fear.
Why?
Because the peace He carried was not created by calm circumstances.
It flowed from His relationship with the Father.
Jesus trusted Abba more than He feared the storm.
And that may be the greater miracle hidden in the story.
The Invitation Hidden In The Boat
After His resurrection, Jesus did more than demonstrate a life of trust.
He shared that life with us.
The invitation is not merely to admire His peace.
It is to participate in it.
The storms will come.
Some will pass quickly. Others may linger longer than we would choose.
But our deepest security has never been found in the absence of storms, but found in the presence of the Father.
And perhaps the miracle many of us need most is not learning how to calm every storm.
It is learning to rest in the same love that allowed Jesus to sleep while the storm still raged.
Reflection
What storm has been occupying my attention lately?
Where have I been measuring the size of the waves more than the faithfulness of God?
What would it look like to rest in the Father's love today?
Prayer