Jesus, Our Calm in the Storm - By Guest Writer Sarah Koch
When I was younger, I used to dream of jet-setting around the world, not living somewhere for too long, and chasing after the big joys in life. After all, life is too short to plant deep roots and spend the days living out mundane rhythms with mere glimmers of joy. Change throughout life was a welcomed and wanted interruption, for it made room for big moments and bold joy.
However, as I get older, change sets a weariness deep in my bones. Last night I stood at the window watching my husband drive away—again. It was a chilly and rainy autumn night, and the melancholy my rain-coated windows and these dark Alaskan nights settled into my heart made this one a bit harder. Our girls squeezed their daddy full of love at bedtime as we said “goodbye” yet again in this season of constant coming and going.
We recently moved to Alaska, and although it is a dream come true for us to live in this last frontier of wild, rugged, and astonishing beauty, the reality that our family and friends are thousands of miles away hits harder every time he leaves. I stand at that window and try to remember that young girl who dreamed of the day she could set out on every adventure that came her way. I try to channel her optimism for bold joy and big moments, but I’m tired and lonely and feel overtaken by the cacophony of uncertainty each new day brings. Change is hard.
Living under the duress of uncertainty has disoriented my faith. My once vibrant and hopeful spirit has given way to exhaustion and doubt. I have sat with the Lord in prayer more times than I like to admit, simply saying, “I have no idea what You’re doing. Is this all worth it?” A prayer of little faith.
But oh, how my soul of little faith is encouraged by the disciples of little faith. When their boat was tossed by the waves and their futures uncertain, Jesus interrupted their little faith, “rebuked the wind and the raging waves, and they ceased, and there was a calm” (Luke 8:24).
The truth of God is that “if we are faithless, he remains faithful…” (2 Tim. 2:13). The presence of God in our lives is powerful. He may calm the wind and waves or lead us, by his Spirit, to pray like Jesus in the garden, saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42). We must be open to both realities, willing and able to trust that God is in fact sovereign over it all.
I don’t know what your “cup” is, but I know mine. I struggle to bear this cup and pray earnestly that the Father removes it from me. However, I am comforted and challenged by the words of Paul in Philippians 1:6, “He who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion.” Whether we are called to bear our “cup” or God in His grace should remove it, we get to hold fast to the truth that it is not without great purpose for our ultimate good.
It is a humbling reality that we can anchor ourselves to the God who is constantly present and working for our good in the whole of our lives for his purpose. We don’t need to be stronger or fight through the pain and weariness this life can bring our way. We need not merely survive the hardships of change on our own. No amount of coffee will get us there. No phone conversation will resolve the matters of the soul. No completed to-do list will get us to a place of peace.
When we come to Jesus, offering our little faith and weary souls, He will remind us through his Word that he is our constant to hold onto through the changes of life and forever covering us with his grace in faithful pursuit of our souls.