Those who know me or who have been within earshot of me oversharing know that this last year has been a tough one for my family and me: one that’s been marked by grief, heaviness, and (mostly) unwelcome change. I’m thankful that I have not had to journey through this season alone, although I wish more than anything that I could spare my 13 year old sister and my mother the heartache this year has unsympathetically laid at their feet. While we’ve banded together to weather the thorough upending caused by my stepdad’s passing, we’re all still trying to unpack our individual baggage that accumulated during our turbulent relationship with him and the complicated, sometimes conflicting feelings his death has conjured up.
My personal experience is that lately I’ve been in a head- and heart-space that is hard to put words to, which is unfortunate for a writer. My stepdad’s death is one of several life-altering events that I’ve been thrust into processing over the last several years since I set out on a pilgrimage from woundedness to wholeness. Consequently, I’ve spent a lot of time in thought, in prayer, and in my feelings. I mean a lot of time. Honestly, I’m sick of myself at this point, but after realizing that I’ve been living as a version of myself shaped by a lifetime of cumulative trauma rather than scriptural truth, I know there is a necessary deconstruction and reconstruction taking place if I am going to live more fully as the woman God created me to be. It’s a gradual process of uprooting lies and identifying false narratives that is teaching me to recognize who I am and who I am not. It’s been a long, unrelenting process that feels impossible some days.
On those days, I try to remember the motivation that the Holy Spirit shared with me a couple of years ago during a particularly discouraging time. He led me to the Gospel of Luke, more specifically to the story of Jesus and the disciples sailing in a storm while Jesus slept, then delivers a man from demon possession. Two other Gospels also recounted the story in Matthew 8:23-27 and Mark 4:35-41, but Luke 8:22-35 reads:
22 One day Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side of the lake.” So, they got into a boat and set out. 23 As they sailed, he fell asleep. A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger. 24 The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!” He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. 25 “Where is your faith?” he asked his disciples. In fear and amazement, they asked one another, “Who is this? He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him.”
It’s a familiar story that most Christians have heard, usually in the context of reminding us that God is in control, He is in our storm with us, and to have faith, so at first blush, there was nothing striking about this passage. I knew there was something I was supposed to be seeing, so I sat with it until I heard the Holy Spirit say that there are parallels between the disciples’ journey with Jesus and my own. I soaked it in as He told me:
- Jesus told them to cross to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. He told them to get into the boat and cross to the other side, which means He was going to get them to the other side. He just chose to withhold that little nugget about the raging storm they’d face on the way, which in my experience, tends to be His way.
Obedience doesn’t guarantee ease, and He and I know that I’m not particularly eager to be put into situations where I’ll be afraid or uncomfortable, so He usually leaves those details out of the instructions, saving them until I’m past the point of no return. If I’d known from the beginning the way some things were going to end, I probably wouldn’t done what was asked of me in the first place and I would have cheated myself and others out of what God was doing in, through, and around me.
Most of the experiences I’m talking about were hard or painful, but I’ve been able to see how they were really and truly a blessing in disguise once I was on the other side of them and even to be thankful for the way things unfolded. I’d like to think the assurance gained from my experiences with God would make me bold enough to charge forward despite knowing what lay ahead, but, uh, I know discomfort and I know me, and we don’t go together. We’ve all heard that “ignorance is bliss”, but in some cases, I think ignorance is grace. Knowing too many details too soon would have cause me to freeze or run the other way. I wonder if the disciples would have questioned, complained, or protested if they had known about “being in great danger” before setting out.
- The disciples panicked, but they still ran to Jesus. When the disciples got into the boat, the weather was calm, and they were probably thinking this would be an uneventful trip. When a violent storm hit their boat and it looked like they might go under, the disciples went to Jesus who was asleep amid the turbulence and woke Him, asking if He even cared that they were being overtaken by the storm. After calming the storm, Jesus asks them why they have so little faith, but the Lord also pointed out to me that the disciples may have been scared but they still ran to Jesus. They were panicking but they didn’t jump overboard or hunker down and see what happens. They took their fear to the one who could save them.
- Going through this storm with Jesus allowed the disciples to see Him in a new way. You know, everyone wants to see a miracle, but no one wants to be in the position of needing one. Before they got on the boat with Jesus that day, the disciples had already seen Jesus heal people and even raise a widow’s son from the dead. That’s some pretty cool stuff if you ask me. But seeing Jesus speaking out into violent wind and waves and seeing them instantly become calm blew their minds. All three gospel accounts say that the disciples were amazed and afraid and they wondered who could have such power to bring peace to the chaos they witnessed, but It took going through the storm with Him to see a side of Jesus they wouldn’t have seen any other way. All three accounts tell us the disciples believed they were in danger of drowning, and I can’t imagine how terrifying that was, but they had to endure that experience to bear witness to a new dimension of His authority. Through that experience, they were among a select few to have the privilege of seeing that nature itself had to come into submission to Him with just a few words. I would say that was worth the price of admission, wouldn’t you?
This last part of what the Lord shared after reading the next passage of Scripture is probably my favorite part. I hold it as a sacred assignment. This is the part that keeps me going on days when I feel like I’ve had enough of the spiritual and emotional boot camp I’ve been in.
26 They sailed to the region of the Gadarenes, which is across the lake from Galilee. 27 When Jesus stepped ashore, he was met by a demon-possessed man from the town. [emphasis added] For a long time this man had not worn clothes or lived in a house, but had lived in the tombs. 28 When he saw Jesus, he cried out and fell at his feet, shouting at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, don’t torture me!” 29 For Jesus had commanded the impure spirit to come out of the man. Many times it had seized him, and though he was chained hand and foot and kept under guard, he had broken his chains and had been driven by the demon into solitary places. 30 Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” “Legion,” he replied because many demons had gone into him. 31 And they begged Jesus repeatedly not to order them to go into the Abyss. 32 A large herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside. The demons begged Jesus to let them go into the pigs, and he gave them permission. 33 When the demons came out of the man, they went into the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. 34 When those tending the pigs saw what had happened, they ran off and reported this in the town and countryside, 35 and the people went out to see what had happened. When they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone out, sitting at Jesus’ feet, dressed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. [emphasis added]
- There are people waiting to get free on the other side of my obedience. If the disciples hadn’t endured the storm and stayed close to Jesus, the man who was demon-possessed and living in tombs wouldn’t have encountered his Savior, his Liberator when he did. I believe that, even if the disciples had protested or refused to make the trip, Jesus still would have gotten to the man and freed him from the demons. Like Mordecai told Esther when she was scared to intercede on behalf of the Jews when they were in danger (Esther 4:14), God would have accomplished His purpose with or without their participation. It was a matter of whether or not they got to witness yet another awesome display of His power, experience Him in a new and glorious way as He set someone free from a life of bondage as only He can.
The question to us is then, are we willing to do the hard to be a part of the good? Am I willing to persevere to be in a position to bear witness to people encountering Jesus and participate in the transforming of lives, including mine? As the Lord told me when He chastised me for complaining, my participation is requested, but it is not required. The invitation is an honor, but I know that His will will be accomplished with or without me.
It’s easy to lose sight of that when I turn my attention inward when I’m in the thick of a storm of my own, but the truth is these storms aren’t just for us or about us. Yes, we’re being refined by some, having our faith built by others – the reasons for our storms are countless and exceed our comprehension, but why are we being refined? Why does our faith need to be built? The answer is to be the hands and feet of Jesus, to show people His heart for them, and to point them to Him. On the other side of the chaos there are people who need to the benefit of our unique insight, increased compassion, deeper wisdom, strengthened faith, and grace-filled healing that came as a result of enduring those storms. Our gifts, our blessings, and our trials are not solely for us; they’re to benefit others and glorify God. Knowing that my temporary undesirable circumstances have the potential to an eternal impact is a powerful motivator during dark times.
If the Lord has given us an assignment, our boats are probably going to be rocked along the way. When that happens, run to Jesus. He will see us through even if the journey doesn’t go the way we expected, and when the clouds part and the waves calm, we will have experienced aspects of God’s nature and His character that we couldn’t have known without going through the storm. On the other side of these holy upheavals, someone is waiting for you to share what was deposited in you and for you to introduce them to the Source of your strength and security.
Friends, I am passing these words on to you in hopes that they are an encouragement during your stormy seasons because, if you’re not in one now, you’ve either just gotten out of one or you’re on your way to one. When that next storm comes, let these words be an anchor. It may not feel like it, but your storms are an invitation to participate in God’s plan of rescue and redemption. Only you can decide if you will cross the rough waters with confidence or if you’ll stay safely on the shore. My prayer is that I’ll see you on the other side.
Until next time,
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