I like to sleep. I go for a good eight hours whenever I can. I remember I got to bed early that night. All was done. All was well. I yawned and snuggled down under the covers in anticipation of a good night’s rest. Then the phone rang.
I staggered to the kitchen. It was two in the morning. “Hello?”
“Hey.” It was my twenty-two year old son back from some jaunt to Kansas City or New Orleans or Denver or somewhere on the West Coast. “I’m twenty miles up the road. It is starting to rain. Can you come pick me up?”
I cannot relate what went through my mind. You will have to imagine it. The nice thought was, “Get a damn license, get your own car and pick yourself up.” But my mouth said, “Yes.” This was my son. I would not abandon him twenty miles from home in the rain.
So the storm came up on Galilee. Wicked storms come up all the time on Galilee. These men, at least the fishermen, had certainly weathered such storms before. But they woke Jesus – and I imagine he was having a really good dream, too.
“Teacher,” they said. “Don’t you care?” Like, this is something we have never said?
“Don’t you care? God, don’t you care?”
Notice, he does not answer with what is going through his mind, either. He takes care of the issue, and afterwards he speaks to the disciples, like I am sure he regularly speaks to us if we have the ears to hear. “Why are you so afraid? (sad, stressed, upset, angry, mad, frustrated, etc). Do you have no faith?……… zinger.
In all of life, even in the midst of the most heinous situation, through all of the problems, troubles, sickness, the loss of loved ones and on, despite all of the cruelty this broken world can heave at us, and even in the face of death itself – in the face of our own imminent demise – do we trust God or not? Do we honestly believe that all things work together for good for those who are called according to his purposes, or not? It is a fair question. Do we have faith?
My response to my son was a bit cruder. “I am exhausted and I have to get up to work tomorrow.” (Guilt – guilt). But when we got back to the house I said, “Son, I will survive work. I am just glad you are home,” and I hugged him in the rain.