"That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, "Let us go over to the other side." Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?" He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, "Quiet! Be still!" Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" They were terrified and asked each other, "Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!""
— Marcos 4:35-41
Have you ever experienced that moment when everything seemed to collapse? When circumstances became so overwhelming that even those beside you seemed to be on the brink of panic? Jesus's disciples lived through this intensely that day in the boat. They were experienced fishermen, they knew the sea, but the storm that arose was different, it was terrifying. And while water flooded the boat and chaos took over, Jesus slept.
The scene is profoundly revealing about how we often experience the storms of life. We have plans, we have direction—Jesus had said: let us go over to the other side—but we are confronted by forces that seem greater than our faith. The disciples wake Jesus not with confidence, but with accusation: "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?" This is the cry of the human heart when fear takes over: the feeling that God doesn't care, that he is distant or indifferent to our struggle.
But observe Jesus's response. He does not rebuke the disciples for being afraid first; he rebukes the wind and the sea. Order is restored, peace is established. Then, and only then, he asks: "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" This is not a cruel questioning; it is an invitation to look beyond the visible circumstances. Jesus was in the boat the whole time. His presence had not disappeared during the storm; it remained, reliable and constant.
Today, as you face your own challenges—whether they are financial, relational, professional, or spiritual—the lesson is clear: fear is a valid feeling, but it should not be your foundation. Faith does not mean the absence of storms; it means recognizing that Jesus is in the boat with you. He may be silent, he may seem to sleep while you struggle, but his presence is real and his power is absolute. The question is not whether the storm will come, but whether you will trust the one who controls it.