Peace, be still

I awoke this morning at 3 and couldn't go back to sleep for a million reasons. I thought of this story: They took Jesus in the boat as they went to the other side of the lake. A huge storm came up. Waves poured into the boat and it looked like it might sink. Jesus was napping in the back. The disciples, those poor folk who remind me so much of, uh, me, shook him awake and said, "Hey. We're sinking here. We are going down, Jesus." Jesus rubbed his eyes, looked around, yawned pleasantly, looked around again and as cool as the other side of the pillow said rather softly, "Quiet. Settle down! I'm trying to sleep here." The wind stopped, er, blowing and the sea calmed down. He turned to those guys again and said, "Hey. Why are you such cowards. Don't you have any faith at all?"

And they woke at 3 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep for a million reasons.

At least that's the way I recall it.

Here's the deal: We've all got qualms about what we're doing -- and qualms is not an offshoot of calm. We all have stuff, baggage, problems, worries, woes.

It seems to me that there is nothing wrong in saying all that. The problems, again it seems to me, begin when we stop trusting and start listing -- if you know what I mean.

We are all, each of us, each single one of us, in this together. When we begin to think that maybe we're not, then the stuff, baggage, problems, worries and woes begin to escalate and the next thing you know, the boat is swamping (to completely obliterate the mixing of metaphors and such).

But it doesn't have to be. I think of the many messages Jesus gave the disciples and thus us, one of them is we're not in this alone. Our burdens don't have to be our burdens. He is with us to the end of the age, whatever that means. I believe it to mean he still is with us. He still takes those burdens, still makes things happen, still stills storms. Still.

I not only believe it, I'm counting on it.

Now, if I could simply sleep it would be even better.