The Storm's Coming

There's a storm coming. You wouldn't believe me if you looked out my windows right now. It's bright and beautiful. There is just the slightest light breeze.  The sky is its own classic shade of blue, and there are white clouds dotting the horizon. Not storm clouds, these are the kind of clouds that make you lay back at a picnic and look for pictures in the sky.

But there is a storm coming.

The fire department has begun making sandbags available to residents.  Local restaurants, recently given permission to resume outdoor dining, are waiting a few days.  The fire damaged areas of Southern California have issued evacuation warnings because of the anticipated flash floods.  Already damaged by wild fires, for them the rain is insult to injury.

And so it is with the storms of life. Things appear perfect until they are not. Today's gentle breeze will blow a tree over tomorrow.

It makes me nervous to write this, almost as if I'm tempting fate, but I know my words will not cause the storms that blow my way.  They will, however, give credit to the God who will meet me in them.  He always has.  He always will.

I am reminded of something that was recently pointed out to me. It's a small detail that I have overlooked in a popular gospel story. The NASB translation says it like this:

Immediately afterward He compelled the disciples to get into the boat and to go ahead of Him to the other side, while He sent the crowds away. After He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone.  But the boat was already a long distance from the land, battered by the waves; for the wind was contrary.  And in the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea.  When the disciples saw Him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” (Matthew 14:22-27)

The language is somewhat outdated in this translation, but it paints a much more vivid picture for my writer's brain. The wind was contrary. The disciples did not have smooth sailing and out of the darkness comes a figure walking towards them.  They were scared.  No, they were terrified.  However, they had forgotten the most important detail. It was Jesus Himself who told the disciples to be where they now found themselves. He urged them.  He forced them.  He compelled the disciples. 

So I must believe that I am in a similar boat as the disciples. I am trying to go where God has told me to go, but it is dark, and the wind is blowing. My journey isn't over; I'm no where near the shore. It is here that Jesus will meet me.  He will call out to me, and I will worship Him.