May 4

Jesus calms the storm

            On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him.  A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”  And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

Mark 4:35-41

I’ve been in a hurricane in Florida that moved our motorhome while we had the brakes set.  I’ve been in a lightning storm in Texas that felt like the sky itself was being ripped apart.  I’ve been in rainstorms in Central America where you could not see two feet in front of your own face.  I’ve been in ice storms in Anchorage where cars would slide off the road…while idling.  Those were all fascinating and terrifying in their own way.  Then the storm was over, people picked up the pieces and went on with their lives with some great stories to tell.

The scariest storm I have ever been in was not any of these.  It was the winter of 1989 and a massive, massive cold front hit Alaska.  Temperatures plummeted around the state and in my home town the thermometer did not read above -40 for over two weeks; most of the time the temperature was -50 to -55 outside.  Modern equipment is not built to withstand those temperatures.  Belts on engines snapped.  Water lines froze.  Propane solidified and froze.  The exhaust from cars could not rise through the cold air so it hung near the ground, bonding with ice crystals in the air and creating “ice fog,” Alaska’s version of smog.  Stepping outside was like walking through a dream haze where the air hurt your face.

The temperatures were hard, but we had all faced worse.  The duration of the cold snap was the brutal part.  Every day was another story of what had broken, who was in crisis and speculation on when might it end.  The churches that were not closed and frozen over had lots of people praying for relief.

Parenting a special needs child is not a violent and terrible storm that we need delivery from.  There is not one traumatic event that we survive and then rebuild a normal life from. It is the long, harsh cold snap that weighs on our hearts and minds and souls.  It is a lifelong endeavor that includes questions every day about what we are supposed to do or say or teach or eat that will give us the best chance of surviving.  It is a constant state of finding our new normal as nothing stays constant with our child.  The question that we often have for God is the same one that the disciples threw at Jesus on the boat, “Lord, don’t you care that we are perishing?”

Don’t you care?  Because if you did care, surely you would do something.  There would be some therapy that would bring substantial healing.  Or you would provide some sort of financial blessing so that we could afford everything that we need.  Or you would at least let the child sleep for more than three hours as a time?  We don’t know how much longer we can last.

Jesus got up, encouraged His followers to have faith, and calmed the storm, bringing stillness to the sea.  The winds died down.  The waves faded away.  There was peace on the water at His command.  What would peace and stillness look like for us when tomorrow morning my son is still going to have autism and my daughters still need love and attention and my wife and I are husks of what we once were and my job still needs me to come in?  What could Jesus possibly say that would bring an end to that storm?

“Peace.  Be still.”  Sometimes healing does not come from a change in external circumstances such as money or health, it comes from a transformation of our hearts.  It comes from the knowledge that God has not abandoned us.  It comes from a change in our expectations of what “normal” is and what “success” is.  Sometimes healing comes from releasing our requirements of what our children are supposed to be and loving and enjoying them exactly where they are at.

This season will pass.  This cold snap will break and warmer weather will come again.  Life will never be just like it was before we had children; there will be new storms and new seasons and new challenges to endure.  And we will endure them.  And we will be wiser for having gone through it…and we will have some amazing stories to tell about God’s goodness in the midst of the storm.

A moment to reflect:

How is God encouraging you to be still in the storm?