But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion.
The disciples are in the boat. There’s a big storm. Jesus is asleep, and the disciples are scared. Waking Jesus, they ask him doesn’t he care?
Anyone who’s been in a boat on rough water or worse in a storm understands this fear. There’s something immense and eternal about stormy waters. There seems to be no end to the churning, nor any cause. And it’s just water – water we drink and bathe in. But now, it’s violent and dark and deadly.
And Jesus is sleeping through this. It’s an interesting setup, for what I believe is the only instance where we hear of Jesus sleeping. He goes off to rest, but I think he’s resting and praying. In this story, he’s sleeping. In the boat. In the storm.
Upon their bidding, Jesus awakens and answers the disciples’ petitions. Peace! Be Still! At this, the seas become ‘dead calm’.
This morning, I’m thinking about Jesus asleep – present, but asleep. I’m thinking about the storm. I’m not in a boat, but I definitely feel the turmoil. In the past two days, I’ve had terms used for my personal storm, that up until now I’ve understood theoretically.
Normative stress – When the increased, persistent stress becomes normal. It feels like my house is at a new normal, with my sick loved one’s presence and behavior. But when I talk about what happens or our exchanges, I can tell from the reaction of others that it’s not really normal. It’s definitely a coping mechanism and makes day-to-day life easier. But the hidden cost is that the stress is still there, and a significantly higher level, and insidiously hidden, because of the brain’s desire for normal. Yup. Got that.
The other term is harm reduction model. Make choices for the care and treatment of others that reduces harm – maybe not solves all their problems. A perfect example of this is the concept of a needle exchange program for IV drug addicts. Yes, stopping the drug use would be the best option. The next best option – the one that reduces harm, would be to provide clean needles to reduce the risk of disease caused by dirty needles. Harm reduction, not harm elimination. We are at a place where treatment for our loved one involves harm reduction. In a perfect world, I could eliminate the disease and behaviors that are harming them. And it is not a perfect world. The storm rages on. I’ve known of the term, Harm Reduction. I support it. I never thought I’d be using it in personal stories.
So here I sit in these stormy, deadly waters. Of course Jesus is present. Of course he’ll respond when petitioned. Of course God has the power to make all of this immediately go away. Peace be still. And of course I’ll ask.
Regardless of whether the waters are immediately calmed, two things I know. First, God is present, even if asleep in the helm. That presence is comforting, regardless of the outcome. Second, when I’m in prayer, or worship, or reflection, or writing, there is an immediate calming of the waters. It doesn’t feel like I’m living with a new normalized increased stress. I genuinely feel at peace.
Today, I want to recognize how my moments of peace and still waters come when I intentionally ask, ‘teacher, don’t you care about the storm?’ Not 100%, but pretty close. It’s fleeting, because I need to finish writing and get back to my day. After calming the waters, Jesus’ response to the disciples was to ask them why they were afraid in the first place. Didn’t they have faith? Today, I want to petition for peace without that sense, from a place of faith. Today, I seek moments of calmed waters, from a God always present in my rocky boat.
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