Wind, Waves, and Thanksgiving Day
“Then he got in the boat, his disciples with him. The next thing they knew, they were in a severe storm. Waves were crashing into the boat—and he was sound asleep! They roused him, pleading, “Master, save us! We’re going down!”
Jesus reprimanded them. “Why are you such cowards, such faint-hearts?” Then he stood up and told the wind to be silent, the sea to quiet down: “Silence!” The sea became smooth as glass.
The men rubbed their eyes, astonished. “What’s going on here? Wind and sea come to heel at his command!””
It's Thanksgiving Day and gratitude may easily flow like beautiful gravy over creamy mashed potatoes. Praise God if so! There is actually nothing better. Ride that gravy train.
But what if thankfulness is a bit harder to tap into due to the wind and waves in our lives? Due to some fears in the back of our brains? I'm thinking of a few friends, a few situations, and a few soul storms of my own.
The men who followed Jesus had found themselves in a "severe storm" on the sea. Whipping winds and waves. Rain running sideways, sails flapping uncontrollably, wind turning them round and round. This certainly can apply to hurricanes of hearts. Maybe you have a severe storm of the soul. Where it is rocked and shoved and tossed about and you cannot find your anchor.
And your God is asleep.
This actually happened. Waves were crashing into the boat and they were so very afraid and they look over at Jesus. And He's out. Dead to the world. Snoozing it up. Now what?!? WAKE UP JESUS!
I kinda love it. I love it because Jesus was as human as it goes. He got hungry and tired. And he napped. He laid down his human body and ignored the world and slept. However, I don't love Him falling asleep in my most desperate time. That feels rough.
So they shouted and woke Him up and and asked for help. They asked him to wake up and do something. And He did. He stood up and silenced the storm in a second.
What do we do with that? What if your storm is still raging and you've asked for help? What if you feel alone and abandoned? What if this seems endless?
We have to remember a few things: This story isn't prescriptive; it's descriptive. We can't say this is how it will go with our storms; but it is how it went in that one. But we can count on one universal truth:
Jesus is King of all waves and all wind.
Some of our storms will last much longer than we'd prefer. Winds seem like they'll never die down, waves beat against our souls. Our souls grow tired of hanging onto tattered sails.
But these waves and winds obey Jesus. Either now or later. They will obey. We can trust Jesus with our most soul-upsetting, disorienting, crashing waves. He's got this. He's king. He's in control. We can trust Him with our very soul.
I sit thankful this morning, on Thanksgiving Day, for those who have walked before us and written on keeping our soul. On finding the Anchor. On trusting God with all of it. Only two chapters in, I am loving "Soul Keeping" by John Ortberg. And I am always thankful for the stories of the brave disciples who followed Jesus through every storm.
“Sometimes the soul gets sifted and shaped in places you could never imagine and ways you could never expect.”
Waiting in the waves and wind with you.
Trusting the King of all things with you.
So very thankful our King is powerful and sovereign.
Today I'm going to enjoy the gravy with you, tell stories and laugh, and put my soul in the care of the King. It's going to be a sweet day. May you do the same.