Late that day he said to them, “Let’s go across to the other side.” … A huge storm came up. Waves poured into the boat, threatening to sink it. And Jesus was in the stern, head on a pillow, sleeping! They roused him, saying, “Teacher, is it nothing to you that we’re going down?” [Mark 4:35,37-38 (MSG)]
They were sailing in the Sea of Galilee, a body of water notorious for sudden violent storms. At least four of the disciples were fishermen; did none of them question Jesus about the possibility of squalls or rough waters? Jesus, being God and omniscient, surely knew a storm was brewing and yet He told the men to take the boat across the sea. As the squall came rolling in, the disciples fought the waves. While they frantically reefed the sails and bailed water, Jesus calmly slept on a cushion in the boat’s stern. To the terrified disciples it seemed as if He didn’t care that they were going to drown.
In another Sea of Galilee incident, Jesus sent the disciples across the lake while He stayed back and prayed in the hills. A storm arrived when the boat was several miles from shore. While the men struggled to keep the boat afloat as it was being battered by waves, I wonder if they felt abandoned by their teacher. Jesus suddenly appeared and, while walking on the water, came toward them. Instead of being relieved by his presence, the disciples, sure they were seeing a ghost, were terrified. Yet, again, Jesus calmed the storm.
Sometimes it seems as if God sends us into troubled waters and then abandons us; other times it seems as He’s sleeping on the job while we’re struggling to keep afloat. Rest assured; He’ll never abandon us. He always knows what’s happening and how the story will end. Jesus awoke and calmed the storm for the disciples and God will calm our storms, provide a life preserver or teach us to swim. While we might not be able to walk on water as did Peter, God will empower us to walk through the troubled waters of life. Although smooth sailing is not guaranteed, God’s presence in the storms is!
Hoping to get a good cardio workout, I’d ramped up the resistance and programmed the machine for a variety of hills, some of which were real killers. Whenever I glanced down at the screen, I groaned at what lay ahead of me. No matter where I was in the program, I was already looking ahead and dreading the next big challenge. Every time I looked at the timer, I lamented the length of time remaining for this self-inflicted torture. After placing my towel over the screen, the workout seemed easier. No longer able to see the hills or time remaining, I stopped dreading the next challenge and the ones after that. I just pumped away, secure in the knowledge that, eventually, my workout would be over.
It’s that time of year again. Signs in stores say it, holiday lights in yards and on rooftops proclaim it, and we might greet one another in church with it. We send out cards with its message, sing of it and, yet, we’re bereft of it. We think we’ll have it when our chores are done, the cards mailed, the house cleaned, the tree decorated, the lights up, the cookies baked, the gifts purchased, the packages wrapped, and the bills paid. We sure we’ll get it if we reach our destination without delay or losing luggage or once our children arrive safely home. As long as everyone stays healthy, no food gets burnt, nothing is broken, politics isn’t discussed, no one gets drunk, and the back-ordered gift arrives in time, we’re sure to have it then. Yet, even when everything goes as planned (and believe me it won’t), it seems to escape us.
If there ever was a time for wisdom, this election season is it. I’ve watched debates, read articles, researched claims, listened to the pundits, and still haven’t decided. The choice seems to be between bad and worse and whoever is worse seems to change daily.
I have a love-hate relationship with my camera and its autofocus. An enormous golden silk spider hangs over the boardwalk we take through the mangroves to the beach. Officially the Nephila clavipes, the female of this species is the largest non-tarantula-like spider in North America. This impressive arachnid has spun her giant orb-like web high above the walkway. She often scares tourists when they glance up to see her suspended above their heads. While I managed to get a shot that of spider, I’d hoped to get a few more of others that have spun their webs down closer to the boardwalk. Autofocus, however, was my enemy. Because their webs were nestled in the trees, the camera looked right through the spiders and focused on the large branches and leaves behind them. My camera focused only on the spider when nothing was behind the creature, but it had plenty on which to focus when pointed at the spiders in the mangroves. The ease of having a small point-and-shoot camera that is so easy to use keeps me loving (but occasionally hating) it.
Devotions of the Heart 