Storm
Jack Radcliffe
8/18/2010

If you enjoy super hero characters, the X-Men have to rate toward the top. One of the characters, Storm, uses her mutant ability to connect with the cosmos and create—you guessed it—storms. Who wouldn’t want to do that? The truth is that some of us do have the “gift” of causing havoc without sometimes realizing it.

Too many of us using that gift at once can have the effect of a volcanic eruption, earthquake, and oil well explosion all at once on their little corner of the world. It’s the perfect storm, and it can leave us bankrupt, poor, desperate, and afraid on just about every level.

I’ve experienced a few perfect storms in my lifetime, where several events slammed together at once. Each time, I wondered if my family and I were going to survive. This is like tornado season in the area of Tennessee where I live. Here, tornados are a common occurrence. You know they’re going to arrive every spring but uncertain about how many or where they will strike. This year, massive flooding, which happens about every half century, was added at no extra charge.

Storms are an incredibly vivid metaphor for life and the times in which we live. Sometimes we see them coming, and other times they catch us by surprise, sending us scurrying for safety at the last minute. Often we end up battered and wounded. Other times, we thank God we were spared.

We awaken every day to some kind of storm. In addition to the current national financial crisis, very real threats to our nation, immigration issues, and declining confidence in those who lead us, some of our first thoughts are of wondering if our kids will be safe that day, if we’ll have a job at the end of it, and if there is any hope for meaningful relationships—if something will go right today. Some days we navigate the storm better than others.

Jesus’ disciples put themselves in the position to experience the rough side of life, simply by pulling up anchor to become nomads and follow Jesus. Mark records an epic scene in which they experienced the full weight of not only the everyday disturbances but also the knock-you-off-your feet devastating tragedies for which no one plans. It happened through the real-life metaphor of bad weather.

Thinking they were going to have a leisurely row across the lake after a day of ministry, this band of brothers quickly encountered a fierce storm with “High waves…breaking into the boat…” (Mark 4:37, NLT). Panicked and afraid, they looked to see Jesus snoozing away in the back of the boat, unfazed by the chaos around him. Believing this was the end, they yelled at Jesus, “…don’t you care that we’re going to drown?” (Mark 4:38, NLT).

Sound familiar? God, don’t you care that my spouse is leaving me? Don’t you care that I don’t have a job to support my family? Don’t you care that I have cancer? Why are you silent? Why are you going to let me drown?

I’ve asked questions like this throughout my life. Jesus’ words to his disciples echo in my mind and heart each time: “Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith [trust]?” (Mark 4:40, NLT). Nothing paralyzes like fear. Nothing like it brings rational human beings to the depths of irrationality. In the treacherous storms of life, who among us has not been afraid, despairing of life, thinking we’ll not survive? Why?

After he stopped the storm, Jesus made it clear that it’s because we don’t trust (have faith). Interesting that he stopped the storm before telling his followers they lacked it. I’m not sure they would have heard that message if he’d said it in the middle of the chaos. Neither would we.

For all the time I’ve spent afraid and worrying, unable to sleep, and strategizing how to get out of the messes I’ve found myself in, angry at those who caused them, often the last thing I want to hear is that I don’t trust Jesus enough to direct me through the storm. He could speak, and they would go away. Even better, he could make sure they don’t happen at all. But he doesn’t. Why?
Maybe so that when he meets us in our place of deepest anxiety and fear and does something unexpected to walk us through, it causes us to ask again in wonder and childlike faith, “Who is this man?” (Mark 4:41, NLT). Storms will come. May we come to know him more deeply through them.

Jack Radcliffe is a husband and father of four, a Life and Parent Coach (www.redwoodcoach.com), a seminar presenter for Parenteen (www.parenteen.com), a ministry consultant with Youth Ministry Architects in Nashville, TN, and an adjunct professor at Martin Methodist College. He has an MDiv from Ashland Theological Seminary in Ohio and a DMin in Practical Theology, Adolescent Development and Culture from Fuller Theological Seminary.