The story from the New Testament about the disciples being in the boat during a storm is a familiar one. While I have not been out to sea in inclement weather my father was once capsized in the Long Island Sound with his boss who happened to be the bishop at the time. There was a dramatic rescue, and fortunately he kept his life. And his job.
But I have been plenty scared on dry land when the wind and waves decide to unleash their power, taking out mine. The scene outside my window now is tranquil, with a red maple singing her best song, and a golden oak sashaying in the breeze. I soak it up even more thirstily for the remembrance of hurricanes that hurled by in autumns past, and winters too.
In church one time there was an enactment of the story, with children in a makeshift vessel, and Jesus asleep next to them. A cast of percussionists created thunder, and rain, waving a ribbon of blue fabric for waves. It was enough to stir up the feelings of unrest. Then the minister told a little girl to wake the Lord up, and she wiggled him. At his word, the tumult ceased.
Just like that.
Waking God up when we are frightened can come as a last resort. First we rely on our own resources, fret on overdrive, and imagine the worst. When I heard that the bleachers at the football field were being moved in preparation for predicted hundred mile an hour winds a few years back, I lost it. There was no way my little house could withstand such an assault. Surely we were doomed.
But we were fine.
The comments in church described ways we can ask God to wake up in our stormy moments. Prayer. Reading the Word, Spending time in nature. Helping a friend. Even Ben raised his hand.
"Listening to music." He is playing his fave now, John Michael Talbot, and it keeps him on an even keel.
The text says that it is Jesus who was asleep. But maybe it is us who are hibernating. When we open our eyes we see that the Creator of Heaven and Earth has been in our boat all along.
