Sleeping
Granted, it had been a long day. We had been busy all day, going here and there, and it was getting dark when we got into the boat to go to the other side. No problem, we thought. Many of us were used to sailing at night. That's when we used to fish. We knew this lake like the back of our hands, and so we cast off and set out on what should have been a short journey.
I could see the weariness in Jesus' eyes. He was tired. He usually seemed to go with supernatural strength, but tonight he was tired, worn out. He had given so much of himself these last few days. Without saying a word, he headed to the back of the boat and laid down on the cushion. Within a few moments, he was sleeping, quietly snoring.
We were taking our time crossing the lake. Normally, it wouldn't have taken very long, but it was night, and it was good to be back out on the lake. So we leisurely made our way across the water, but very quickly realized we shouldn't have.
Storms come up very quickly on this lake, and that's what happened to us that night. One moment it was peaceful and, it seemed, the next moment, the wind began to pick up. The clouds rolled in and suddenly, we were in the midst of a storm in a small boat in the middle of a lake. Not where you want to be. Not a safe place to be.
We adjusted the sails, and we kept trying to row. We tried every trick in the book, everything we knew, but this storm seemed so much bigger than us. It was like the storm was targeting our little boat. Was this more than a storm? Was there something behind this storm, something demonic, something evil? We tried and we tried and we rowed and we rowed...then we realized there were only twelve of us working on this problem. One of us was missing. One of us was...sleeping?
Yep, Jesus was still sound asleep, in the back of the boat. How in the world could he sleep through such a raging storm? How in the world could he not hear the wind and feel the rain on his face? "Jesus," I shouted at him. "Jesus," I yelled again, trying to get my voice over the noise of the wind. "How can you sleep? Don't you care? We're going to die out here!"
Jesus stirred, sort of looked up, then sat up and stretched. He seemed surprised at the storm. Man, he must have really been sound asleep! Then he did something I didn't expect. I expected him to come and grab an oar, to try to row with us, to lend his strength to ours. Instead, he contributed his real strength to the problem. "Peace!" he shouted, to no one in particular. "Be muzzled!" And just that quickly, the storm quit. The wind died down, the rain stopped and the clouds seem to run away. Just that quickly, we were safe, and everything was calm again.
I reached up to wipe the rain off my face (in fact, had my face not been wet, I would have been tempted to wonder if I had imagined the whole storm...that's how quiet it got!), and he looked over at us. "Don't you have any faith?" And with that, he laid back down and fell back asleep.
And I was left to wonder...do I? Do I have any faith?
I could see the weariness in Jesus' eyes. He was tired. He usually seemed to go with supernatural strength, but tonight he was tired, worn out. He had given so much of himself these last few days. Without saying a word, he headed to the back of the boat and laid down on the cushion. Within a few moments, he was sleeping, quietly snoring.
We were taking our time crossing the lake. Normally, it wouldn't have taken very long, but it was night, and it was good to be back out on the lake. So we leisurely made our way across the water, but very quickly realized we shouldn't have.
Storms come up very quickly on this lake, and that's what happened to us that night. One moment it was peaceful and, it seemed, the next moment, the wind began to pick up. The clouds rolled in and suddenly, we were in the midst of a storm in a small boat in the middle of a lake. Not where you want to be. Not a safe place to be.
We adjusted the sails, and we kept trying to row. We tried every trick in the book, everything we knew, but this storm seemed so much bigger than us. It was like the storm was targeting our little boat. Was this more than a storm? Was there something behind this storm, something demonic, something evil? We tried and we tried and we rowed and we rowed...then we realized there were only twelve of us working on this problem. One of us was missing. One of us was...sleeping?
Yep, Jesus was still sound asleep, in the back of the boat. How in the world could he sleep through such a raging storm? How in the world could he not hear the wind and feel the rain on his face? "Jesus," I shouted at him. "Jesus," I yelled again, trying to get my voice over the noise of the wind. "How can you sleep? Don't you care? We're going to die out here!"
Jesus stirred, sort of looked up, then sat up and stretched. He seemed surprised at the storm. Man, he must have really been sound asleep! Then he did something I didn't expect. I expected him to come and grab an oar, to try to row with us, to lend his strength to ours. Instead, he contributed his real strength to the problem. "Peace!" he shouted, to no one in particular. "Be muzzled!" And just that quickly, the storm quit. The wind died down, the rain stopped and the clouds seem to run away. Just that quickly, we were safe, and everything was calm again.
I reached up to wipe the rain off my face (in fact, had my face not been wet, I would have been tempted to wonder if I had imagined the whole storm...that's how quiet it got!), and he looked over at us. "Don't you have any faith?" And with that, he laid back down and fell back asleep.
And I was left to wonder...do I? Do I have any faith?
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