The Storm isn’t in charge

The waves were wild.

They didn’t just slap against the sides of the boat…they screamed. The kind of storm that makes seasoned fishermen forget how to breathe. The kind that steals your voice and replaces it with panic. That night, the sky broke open and the sea rose to meet it. And we were somewhere in the middle, lost in the chaos between sky and sea… and He was sleeping.

Sleeping.

Not pacing the boat.

Not stretching out His hand.

Not speaking peace.

Not even watching.

Just… asleep.

And I said what maybe you’ve whispered in your own storm: “Master, carest thou not that we perish?” Because how could He rest when I’m unraveling? How could the Prince of Peace be so still when everything in me is screaming?

I didn’t understand it then…but maybe I’m beginning to now.

Because maybe the silence of Heaven isn’t always absence.

Maybe the stillness of God is not the same as neglect.

Maybe His sleep was not a sign of indifference, but of sovereignty.

He knew the storm couldn’t swallow us.

He knew the boat couldn’t sink with the Word made flesh inside it.

He knew the wind wouldn’t get the final word, He would.

Maybe He slept because the storm wasn’t a threat to Him.

And if it wasn’t a threat to Him, it didn’t need to be a threat to me.

But I still asked the question,

The raw, honest one that lives in the back of most weary hearts:

“Don’t You care?”

I’ve whispered it with bills on the counter and loved ones in the hospital.

With a doctor’s report in one hand and a broken relationship in the other.

When the grief is too thick, and the prayers are too quiet, and the night is too long.

And still… He sleeps.

But when He wakes…

He doesn’t scold me for my fear.

He speaks to the waves.

He stands between me and the chaos, and He commands it.

And the same voice that called stars into being says to my storm:

“Peace, be still.”

And it is.

Not because the wind finally listened,

But because the Wind knows His name.

So if you’re in the middle of it,

If the thunder is loud and the Savior seems silent…If you’re shaking Him awake with your tears and asking if He still sees you,

Take heart.

The One who sleeps in your storm is not unaware… He is unthreatened.

The One who seems quiet is the same One who holds dominion over wind and wave.

And even if it takes longer than you hoped,

Even if the waters rise high,

There is a voice that will rise higher still.

And when He speaks, your storm will know:

It was never in charge.