One day Jesus said to his disciples, “Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.” So they got into a boat and started out. As they sailed across, Jesus settled down for a nap. But soon a fierce storm came down on the lake. The boat was filling with water, and they were in real danger. The disciples went and woke him up, shouting, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!” When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and the raging waves. Suddenly the storm stopped and all was calm. Luke 8:22-24 (NLT)
The cabin we rent in Ontario, Canada is on Lake Charleston. It’s simple–just two bedrooms, a bath, and a combined living/dining/kitchen area, and it sits up on a rocky point. The front wall of the cabin is entirely windows, and the lake is right there, so close that when I look out, all I see is water.
Just off shore there’s a shoal–a place where the smooth granite of the lake bed rises up to form a small ridge. I can see the grayish-brown of it under the water’s shining surface. There’s a spot where the water is so shallow over it that the gulls can stand safely and have a rest. Megan calls it the “Jesus Rock” because from our cabin, the gulls appear to be standing on the water.
Today the wind is pushing the water into little waves that lap against the shoreline and sparkle in the sun. There’s a lone gull on the Jesus Rock, standing calm as can be as the small waves wash over its feet. But when a boat goes by, the waves get much bigger. That’s when the gull tucks up its feet and floats on the waves until the water is calm again.
That’s how I want my faith to be. When things are calm, life is going along smoothly, I want to stand firm on the Jesus Rock. He’s my foundation, my support, my guide and my strength, unchanging and always with me. But when the life-waves get too big, I want to relax and float on the water until things calm down again. Just rest there and let the water of God’s loving Presence carry me smoothly over the troubled times.
I’m impatient, though, and don’t like that it seems to be taking me forever to get there. (It’s like I’m a child yelling at my parent, “I want patience, and I want it NOW!”) It’s hard. But I can look back at myself and see that I’m closer than I used to be, so that’s good. I’m not so much a mess as I was last year or last week or last night. I think I’m growing, moving in the right direction.
Because storms come. The sky darkens with clouds and the winds whip the water into furious waves. It’s so hard not to get overwhelmed and sink.
But the Jesus Rock is right there, just under the surface, holding me up. and when the waves get too big, I can float.
The View from Mt. Hope 