Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace, be still!” And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.
Mark 4:29 (NIV)
Stop telling God how big your storm is. Instead tell your storm how big your GOD is….
I have taken on the habit of morning meditation. Sando (superdog/therapist/prayer-partner/confidante/keeper-of-secrets) usually participates, sometimes reluctantly, and then we walk. I dawdled this morning, the skies got dark, and we were two blocks from home when he filled another poopy bag. Instead of taking it home (ewww) we circled back to the park and the skies erupted (no, I mean for real). We laughed (yes my dog laughs with me in his way), got soaked, and then took our time walking the final two blocks home. He wasn't stressing, so why should I. It was a rain blessing. I love the lessons my dog teaches me...after all, it was only water...
Sometimes the Lord calms the storm.
Sometimes, He lets the storm rage
and calms the child.
Today I learned lessons about fear and faith. As the skies darkened, it was evident that the storm loomed. The park is only two blocks from home, and I certainly could have headed towards the house, but I made a conscious decision to travel in another direction. I was intentional in risking the consequences, and unafraid. I’m no fool, and there was no danger of hail, lightening strikes, or serious injury. It was only water. It was only two blocks, and clearly, there was nothing to fear.
I wish I could channel that resolve into the rest of my life. Life is scary. Fortunes change, evolutions occur, leaders are replaced, people die, economies rise and fall, shifts happen. While we know (intellectually) that we serve an omnipotent and unchanging God, we (I) haven’t successfully woven Him into the inner recesses of my primitive brain. I know what I know, but sometimes I (we) forget.
Imagine sailing with The Christ in the boat (I mean literally, like the disciples). Even they forgot who was on board, so I guess I shouldn’t feel so badly. Looking back at this morning, I’d love to decode what worked. Those are secrets I imagine I’ll unlock some other day. Here is what was clear. My nonchalance was mirrored by my dog (no sweat, we’re good). We actually waited out the storm briefly under a tree; he led, I followed. I said let’s go, and we calmly set forth for home. I was always clear we were safe; I knew the rain wouldn’t hurt us (what’s a little water?), and it was the end of the walk on a beautiful morning I’d already spent in meditative prayer. What was the sense in mucking it up with drama over the weather?
I will remember the calm amusement I felt as I faced this storm the next time a storm arises. In case I forget, the evidence is written here. In case I forget, the scriptures remind me that even the disciples got a little crazy when the winds got high and the storms raged. If God could calm their storms with “Peace be still,” I’ve got nothing to worry about. “Peace be still.” A powerful reminder that even when the storms of life are raging, God is good.