STORMS AND CALM
Prayer
Praying On The Journey With Christ
A Commitment To Encounter Christ Through The Gospel Of John
Object:
John 6:16-21
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, "It is I; do not be afraid." Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.
COMMENTARY
By now it must have been obvious to the disciples that Jesus was going to absent himself from them frequently. But it was not so much to get away from them as it was to be in touch with the Father. The solitude of prayer precedes the walk on the stormy sea.
PRAYER
Lord Jesus Christ, it is easy to imagine the fear that a dark stormy sea at night produced in your disciples, especially at a time when boats didn't have engines to help them meet the waves. But it doesn't seem to be the darkness, the wind, the waves, nor the deep that frightened your chosen. You did.
Lord, if you come into my life during a storm, as real as you came into the lives of your disciples, again you will have to identify yourself and tell me not to be afraid. Who can stand the sight of you, even under the most perfect circumstances? How can I dare ask you to be so present that even the storm of my life dissipates by your nearness? Lord, I am afraid to have you that close, afraid that I would mistake you for some other dread, afraid that I would not take my eye off my storm to see your calm.
Jesus, I have asked you, sincerely, to come into my life. I have asked you to come and be present, to use me, to give me direction, but almost always, when I sense you near, you bring as much storm as you do calm. In fact, you always seem to reverse my state: if I am in a storm, you bring calm; if I am calm, you bring a storm. What does this mean?
Sometimes, Lord, I have been sorry that I've invited you in, because you are not always such pleasant company. You literally answer my prayer, but in ways I don't like. Yes, I want to be used, but used nicely. Yes, I want to be your witness, but in safe ways. Yes, I want to be very bold and very brave, but I don't want to be formed by suffering. I just want you to do all the work, keep me from making mistakes or enemies, let me be a good example of your love, and enjoy this good life that you, yourself, have made possible with the Father.
How silly I am, Lord, to think that you can use me without using me. I know what you do with those you choose. It is not a pretty picture, which is why, I think, I don't really volunteer to be your person. I'm too afraid for that. I did it when I was young, before I knew your ways. Now I know you too well. I know what you do. Not only am I afraid of the pain, but I am also afraid that I will fail you in the end. I am afraid that I will be another Judas, not another Paul. Yet, you already have your hooks in deep ... deep, beyond the barb. To walk away from you now is to rip out my very heart. I am afraid to go, afraid to stay, afraid that you will come to me in my storm, afraid that you will not. What kind of God are you to make me so fearful?
Lord, you spoke two quick messages to your storm-tossed disciples. It was all that they could bear to hear, all that they needed to hear. You told them you were there. You told them not to be afraid. And then you brought a peace; then you brought them to the place where they were heading. Nothing dangerous could make you sink away. Nothing slippery could make you fall. No darkness could cover you up. You were master of the storm, master of the sea, but most importantly, master of the frightened ones.
Lord, like the disciples, I may not have enough sense to ask for you to come at the right moment in the storms of my life, but you will be there. You will show up. And if you do not show up as quickly as I think you should, and if I do not recognize you, even when you're there, do for me what you did for them, and bring me safely to the destination of my life; bring me safely to you. Amen.
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, "It is I; do not be afraid." Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.
COMMENTARY
By now it must have been obvious to the disciples that Jesus was going to absent himself from them frequently. But it was not so much to get away from them as it was to be in touch with the Father. The solitude of prayer precedes the walk on the stormy sea.
PRAYER
Lord Jesus Christ, it is easy to imagine the fear that a dark stormy sea at night produced in your disciples, especially at a time when boats didn't have engines to help them meet the waves. But it doesn't seem to be the darkness, the wind, the waves, nor the deep that frightened your chosen. You did.
Lord, if you come into my life during a storm, as real as you came into the lives of your disciples, again you will have to identify yourself and tell me not to be afraid. Who can stand the sight of you, even under the most perfect circumstances? How can I dare ask you to be so present that even the storm of my life dissipates by your nearness? Lord, I am afraid to have you that close, afraid that I would mistake you for some other dread, afraid that I would not take my eye off my storm to see your calm.
Jesus, I have asked you, sincerely, to come into my life. I have asked you to come and be present, to use me, to give me direction, but almost always, when I sense you near, you bring as much storm as you do calm. In fact, you always seem to reverse my state: if I am in a storm, you bring calm; if I am calm, you bring a storm. What does this mean?
Sometimes, Lord, I have been sorry that I've invited you in, because you are not always such pleasant company. You literally answer my prayer, but in ways I don't like. Yes, I want to be used, but used nicely. Yes, I want to be your witness, but in safe ways. Yes, I want to be very bold and very brave, but I don't want to be formed by suffering. I just want you to do all the work, keep me from making mistakes or enemies, let me be a good example of your love, and enjoy this good life that you, yourself, have made possible with the Father.
How silly I am, Lord, to think that you can use me without using me. I know what you do with those you choose. It is not a pretty picture, which is why, I think, I don't really volunteer to be your person. I'm too afraid for that. I did it when I was young, before I knew your ways. Now I know you too well. I know what you do. Not only am I afraid of the pain, but I am also afraid that I will fail you in the end. I am afraid that I will be another Judas, not another Paul. Yet, you already have your hooks in deep ... deep, beyond the barb. To walk away from you now is to rip out my very heart. I am afraid to go, afraid to stay, afraid that you will come to me in my storm, afraid that you will not. What kind of God are you to make me so fearful?
Lord, you spoke two quick messages to your storm-tossed disciples. It was all that they could bear to hear, all that they needed to hear. You told them you were there. You told them not to be afraid. And then you brought a peace; then you brought them to the place where they were heading. Nothing dangerous could make you sink away. Nothing slippery could make you fall. No darkness could cover you up. You were master of the storm, master of the sea, but most importantly, master of the frightened ones.
Lord, like the disciples, I may not have enough sense to ask for you to come at the right moment in the storms of my life, but you will be there. You will show up. And if you do not show up as quickly as I think you should, and if I do not recognize you, even when you're there, do for me what you did for them, and bring me safely to the destination of my life; bring me safely to you. Amen.
