In a boat with Jesus

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Life sometimes gets chaotic.  It gets chaotic for everyone, no matter what their jobs are, no matter where they live.

However, when life goes nuts on the mission field it can get scary.  1) We are in a foreign country without the resources that we are used to having. 2)The title missionary means we are "supposed to have it together".  Falling apart is not part of the job description.

It is however, a job hazard.

Last night a load of numerous and heavy problems began to weigh on my mind.  It was enough that despite exhaustion I was completely unable to sleep.

Those of you who heard our presentation in the states know the story of when our lives fell apart on our last term and you know the passage that got us through it.

A quick re-cap goes like this.

Life got bad.  Really bad.
I wanted to pack my bags and go home.
I yelled at God that I was drowning.

I read in Mark the story that we all know.
Jesus says, "get in this boat, we are going somewhere."
Halfway there a storm appears and the disciples start yelling that they are all gonna die.

I kept reading, even after Jesus calmed the storm and learned that the point of a storm is to get through it.
Because on the other side is the whole purpose in the trip.
A beaten, broken man see Jesus and runs to Him and worships Him.

Last night, in the midst of my mini storm, my mind went back to that story.  To the middle of the story. To the part where the disciples were in a panic.  They were falling apart.

Jesus was sleeping.  I read, or heard somewhere (I wish I could remember where) the question:  "What should the disciples have been doing instead?  If you took away the possibility of freaking out, what should they have done instead?"

I answered that question last night.  Disciples, by definition, are mimickers.  They should have been mimicking Jesus.
They should have curled up next to him and fallen asleep.

So.  In the end.  At 3 am.  I decided to be a true disciple.  I crawled in bed and imagined I was in a boat and the winds of worry were tossing me to and fro.  My body ached and my mind swirled with all the unknowns of the week.
I imagined Jesus sleeping.

And I followed Him.
I slept.

In the story of the storm, the storm was not the point.  But, there is a lesson in that storm.  When we follow Jesus, there can be calm.  Even in the middle of chaos.


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