Growing up in North Texas, you get used to tornadoes. Every April or May, tornado warnings seem to go off multiple times a week. For eight weeks, it feels like you spend more time in your closet or bathtub than anywhere else in the house. For my family, our fear of these uncontrollable storms was always at red alert. Our area wasn’t just at risk for the occasional twister; we lived where many of those tornadoes tended to start. We were often glued to The Weather Channel, sure that our day was (eventually) going to come.
I’d like to say that we always prayed and trusted the Lord in those moments. Truthfully, we didn’t. We treated tornadoes like embodied deities, almost bowing down to them and begging them not to hit our house. C’mon, tornado. Stay north of us. Don’t come through here, we prayed from our closet. We stopped just short of leaving them an offering on our doorstep.
Much like the disciples on the boat, we had doubts. When the storms raged around us, we said, “Lord we’re going to die!” We wish we were more like so many of those in today’s passage who turned to Jesus, with faith that he could heal and protect. In fact, we have even less excuse than the disciples to doubt Jesus’ power, because we get to look back on these stories and see the Savior at work.
If we believe the Bible is true, then we’ll ultimately rest in the truth that Jesus is in the business of healing and protecting. Storms, diseases, and frailties are like house flies in the face of Jesus—they are annoying, but of no real threat. He squashes them with a mere word. After all, “even the wind and sea obey him” (Matthew 8:27). Surely, even our greatest heartaches, missteps, and fears are no match for Him.
Today, may we trust that even through life’s storms and pains, Jesus is here. He cares. He empathizes. He reaches out to us. He may not always answer exactly how and when we’d like, but He is never silent or ambivalent to us.
Thanks be to Him.
Written by Brandon D. Smith