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Finding Calm in the Storm


Do you ever get motion sick? I do. When Pastor Bob talks about motion sickness in a sermon, I relate. Travel in general is tough for me no matter the conveyance –car, plane, boat, amusement park ride –the rockier the motion the more ill I feel and the greater the suffering. This is true during times of turmoil as well. When the ebb and flow of every day turns into a tumultuous toss and turn like angry seas during a storm, that's when I feel an anxious sick, a disequilibrium where a foothold is not easily gained.

It is during those times I find my footing in the Lord, where the ease of prayer, the steadiness of resting in Him, the gentleness of His arms, the protection of the fortress He provides, soothes me –where His refuge shelters me from wayward thoughts and the rising din and roil that surrounds me. I fall on Him knowing I can't stand alone and in my weakness I hope to be strong. Strong enough to listen, to trust, to share, to write, to move forward, and to get back up when all I want to do is lay amidst the fragile fragmented shards of my heart and bleed pity and what ifs. Instead, with empty hands, I am pulled to my knees and the Lord pours out grace and calm –quelling the storm, guiding me through the sadness that looms ahead like a giant hedge maze. He exposes those parts of my heart still hiding in the darkness –those black bits heavy with fear and distrust, ferreting them out, bringing them into His glorious light where, out in the open, the angry stain is gradually erased –covered, washed clean, forgiven –in the spilled blood of His own son, Jesus. God removes the obstacles impeding my ability to be in communion with Him and opens the eyes of my heart focusing them sharply where I wait upon Him –surrendered. He straightens my path and sees me through to where I can again stand, firmly rooted, in Him.

This is what prayer offers –connection, dialogue, and relationship combined in vivid brush strokes that paint a portrait of who God is –promise keeper, protector, healer, forgiver, father, who provides me with family –brothers and sisters in the church, to lean on when things are chaotic and tough. When I allow myself to be vulnerable and authentic, loving others enough to allow them to share in my hurts, amazingly nothing of what the enemy threatens occurs. Instead, the Body comes alongside offering love and support –sharing, listening, and praying, helping me to submit and trust –teaching me to truly love, healing old wounds, carrying me until I can get my sea legs.

I stand awed by grace and the One who gives it especially during these stretching and growing times when unsettled aches threaten to engulf me. I am thankful to the Lord for His sovereignty, for reminding me how much I need Him, for revealing the parts of me that need remodeling, for patiently waiting as I die to self incrementally and for helping me to tease out the joy hidden always in my heart that can only be found at the foot of the cross.