Sitting on the beach, my mind strays and wanders like the seabirds that flit out over the ocean. My breaths begin to slowly synchronize with the break of the waves upon the shore. And a story of Jesus comes to mind.
“That day when evening came, he said to his disciples,”Let us go over to the other side.”” Mark 4:35 NIV
He was tired from serving all day, weary of crowds and longing for rest. He asks the disciples to take him across the Sea of Galilee to the other side. As the waves lapped calmly along the sides and bottoms of the boat, Jesus fell asleep.
That day I was on the beach, a storm was brewing, and the waves were beginning to churn. The wind had begun to blow and they were no longer a long gentle tide ebbing and flowing. There’s something about a storm brewing out over the ocean that I like. The air feels charged and a little unpredictable. On the Sea of Galilee, the fishermen were panicked. A storm surged unexpectedly. Sailing in the midst of this violent squall, their little boat was taking on water as the waves tossed over the sides. Those seasoned fisherman were doing all they knew to do, all that they had learned to do. Then, their attention turned towards their Teacher. Maybe to check on Him, maybe for help, only to discover that Jesus was still asleep. Blissfully unaware of their peril. The disciples’ tempers bubbled over like the storm as they, in disbelief, accused Him of not caring.
Jesus was with them that day in the midst of the storm. He muzzled the wind and calmed the raging sea. Jesus brought peace even in the midst of a tempest. Because, He is peace. They weren’t in peril; their circumstances just appeared that way.
“He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be Still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.” Mark 4:39 NIV
I walked the shoreline picking up shells after the storm and thought about sand and God and how He promised Abraham so long ago that his descendants would be as numerous as the sand on the seashore. God promised him all nations on earth would be blessed through his offspring. I picked up the ones that caught my eye stowing the shells away in my pocket for other days of remembrance and I walked and thought.
He brought peace to my overworked stormy mind, worn too thin by pressures from without and within. The stress would still be waiting when I returned but the center of the storm was calm. Ordered. I found blessing amidst the grains of sand from the offspring of Abraham, the One that the disciples learned even the wind and waves obey. The eye in any of life’s storms, Jesus — their peace, my peace, your peace.