Waves Are Only Waves

Waves Are Only Waves

I was listening to the song “Peace, Be Still” sung by Hope Darst the other day, and thinking about when Jesus calmed the storm in Mark 4. The world right now often feels like we are in the middle of a storm, as it rages around us with all its fury and confusion. We can begin to feel as though everything is out of control, and we are just floating over each wave as we are pelted with rain.

Many of the disciples who were with Jesus were fisherman, so the sea was not a foreign place to them. They spent a large part of their lives understanding the weather, knowing when fishing was best and dealing with boats on the sea. This storm sent them all into a fright, which made me consider a couple of things.

Celebrating in the Brokenness

Celebrating in the Brokenness

I really hate cliff-hanger endings. I know some people consider it an art form, but I just get frustrated and want everything wrapped up and sorted out. I wrote a post a couple of years ago on the hardship of being in the middle of a story with no idea what the end will be. We like to listen to those who have completed that part of their journey—the cancer is gone, the marriage is restored, the kid has returned to the family. But right now, there is so much that cannot be tied up and completed. I feel that my most common answer to questions is “I don’t know.”

I battle with the part of me that wants to make plans, schedule things, get excited about whatever is coming next. And God keeps calling me back to moment-by-moment of walking with Him, and entrusting the ending and the future to Him. And frankly, I don’t like it.

The revelation I’ve been having, though, is how there is such a sweetness to that simplicity and smallness of the moments lived hand-in-hand with Jesus. I am weary, and it’s because I keep trying to run ahead and sort it all out for God. In taking a pause, I am reminded that it isn’t my responsibility to do God’s job—I get to follow.