I’ve spent hours upon hours this week, exploring, unpacking, and editing a montage of thoughts. I’ve pored over scripture, listened for what the Lord might want to say to me, reevaluated what He said last week, planned tonight’s supper menu, replayed yesterday’s course of events (and repented of a few attitudes), calculated how I might fit one more thing into this (and next) week’s schedule, fretted over that pesky raccoon in our bird feeder, questioned my ability to hear God—all this while pecking away at what’s supposed to be this week’s blog (if that’s what you’d call this). Like an electrocardiogram records every blip, blip, blip of the heart, my mind has traced every impulsive, inspirational, regretful, worrisome thing past, present, and future and has just about wore itself out.
I can’t tell you how many times niggling anxiety told me, “You’re on your own this time, Debbie.” Fear agreed. “Yep, God has left you high and dry with nothing more to share than that you’re having goulash for supper and yes, it’d probably be in your best interest to squeeze in that doctor’s appointment.”
I hate it when this happens. I’ve rebuked, repented, and sighed my way thus far. But I suspect this is the Lord’s doing, considering we had a short conversation earlier about abiding.
“Abide in Me,” He said. As the Father has loved Me, so have I loved you. Abide in My love.[i]
“Oh yeah, abide. I’m to dwell in You, rely on You, persevere through You,” I replied. “That’s all well and good, but what exactly does abide look like since I’m obviously missing it?” Abiding seemed so out of reach at this point, I needed Him to give me a visual.
Which He so kindly did.
Jesus is in a boat with His disciples.[ii] They are trying to cross the Sea of Galilee during a storm that reminds me of the 1991 movie The Perfect Storm about a commercial fishing boat caught in “the middle of the monster”.
Jesus’ disciples (some were skilled fishermen) are battling for their lives, the boat filling with water faster than they can bail.
And there, fast asleep on a cushion in the stern, is Jesus, all safe and snug and at peace in His Father’s arms.
That was my visual. And that’s all I have worth sharing in this week’s blog.
Lord, teach me . . . teach us to abide in You, no matter the (inner and outer) storms we experience.