“Sometimes He calms the storm- and whispers “peace be still.” He can settle any sea, but it doesn’t mean He will. Sometimes he holds us close, and lets the wind and waves go wild. Sometimes He calms the storm, and other times He calms His child…”
I’ve had this chorus floating through my mind many times in the past few weeks. Perhaps, it is because I experienced first-hand what the disciples experienced in the middle of the Sea of Galilee during the storm, except that I was in the middle of the ocean off the coast of Freetown. THAT story is a testimony to the power of prayer.
A group of us had gone across the bay from Freetown into Lungi, an area directly across from Freetown to attend a church service with one of our local translators. As usual, according to African time, the church service started over an hour late and lasted a couple hours longer than we anticipated. It was a lovely service celebrating the youth in their church with lots of music, dancing, and singing. Unfortunately, a couple of us had to be back to the ship by a certain time that afternoon. The church graciously said goodbye as we “snuck” out of the service early to head back to the ship. We had taken one of the big public ferries to get across that morning, but on the way back a few of us were planning to take a water taxi (speedboat) back to save some time.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the seasons in west Africa- there are only two. Rainy season and dry season. Rainy season had already started (it usually begins the end of May), and so as we looked across the bay, we noticed some stormy weather on the horizon. Me, being the adventuresome, out-doors girl that I am, suggested that we hurry up and take the water taxi NOW before the storm moved in. The speedboat driver was reluctant, but finally decided to start the journey across the bay to Freetown. That urging was severely regretted later in that trip.
It’s hard to say what exactly happened after that. My friends Timo, Nadine, Anna, and I were all riding along as we sped across the bay on the smooth water in a long, wooden boat seating the total of eleven of us passengers. The sun was shining, the water was smooth, and the storm continued to move in from the East. It looked like we would just make it to the port on the other side as we watched the storm clouds move in. What a naïve assumption on my part. All of a sudden, in the middle of the bay, it began to sprinkle. Laughing over the scenario, Timo, Nadine, Anna and I all quickly covered our belongings and enjoyed the sprinkles of rain. Suddenly, the rain began to get heavier, and the captain passed a large piece of black plastic to us, to cover ourselves with. We all continued to laugh about the ridiculousness of the ordeal, when all of a sudden the rain turned into a heavy downpour and the wind picked up into sporadic, wild gusts in all of about an instant.
The captain slowed down, barely able to see through the sheets of rain, as the ocean waves began to swell. Our faces turned from expressions of humor to fear. As the captain attempted to maneuver the rough, 5-8 foot waves, we were jostled about in the boat, holding on to the plastic and one another for dear life. Nadine began to cry next to me. Timo, behind me, began muttering/praying in Dutch, and I began crying out-“Where are we? Where are we going?”, straining to see our destination from beneath the black tarp.
The wind, now a mighty surge, whipped the plastic in our faces, rain pouring through the tarp’s small holes and tears and onto our already-soaked clothes. A couple of times we hit large waves that splashed salty seawater into our faces. I can still taste the salt. The captain, trying to find his way, circled the bay a few times. Every time he turned against the waves, we struck them, sending many of us 2-3 inches airborne. I again yelled at the driver, trying to decipher our fate, when the Sierra Leonean man sitting in our row turned to us and said “we must pray”. I had already been praying wildly in my head, so the words and cries to Jesus now came out in flood. Nadine, as she quoted later, cried “as a desperate woman, thinking she would die”. I honestly thought to myself, “this is it… this is how I’m going to die- in Sierra Leone”, but my heart fought against the thought! Jesus brought us here to bring life! Not to die! So my prayers became even louder and more fervent.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, the captain found the Freetown dock area, and with the help of huge, muscular Africans, we were helped (or carried!) out of the boat and onto dry land. I don’t think I have ever been so relieved in all my life. We were all praising Jesus and shaking as we walked to the road, got a taxi, and returned to the ship.
My experience put a whole new perspective on the story in Luke 8 where Jesus lay, sleeping in the boat, and his disciples woke him up crying “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!”. What was His response? “Where is your faith?”, and he calmed the sea to their amazement. Sometimes, it seems that God does calm our rough seas-makes our paths smooth before us and bring things nicely together in ways we thoroughly enjoy and are happy to attribute to His hand at work. At other times, however, we’re called not to calm seas, but to brave the crashing of the waves all around us. In my dad’s office, he has a quote posted on his wall that I have always loved. It says “Smooth seas rarely make skillful sailors”. I wonder if it is similar in our lives and the various “storms” that come our way.
I have felt challenged and stretched in enormous ways in the past few months (the last year, really) with the challenge of following Jesus in the things that aren’t so rosy and nice, or the things we wouldn’t necessarily chose of our own accord. The Lord places us where we are for a reason, but it’s up to us to embrace that and find joy in it. I have been struggling, not only through the unknowns of my future, but also in finding joy in the midst of the challenge of starting this new position as Ward Clinical Instructor. I have LOVED the teaching and people aspect, but have been struggling with the detail management and having joy in sitting in front of a computer for hours on end. Yes, there are many moments of enjoyment, but I think my selfish nature has been cropping up big time. Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, having dreams or expectations unfulfilled in my own interpretation of “perfect timing” have left me feeling discouraged. How terrible that I should pout and complain about the challenge before me - and yet, here I stand.
Sorry that is blog post isn’t one that lifts the spirits or encourages the soul- it just happens to be the reality of a woman’s heart struggling to love and serve Jesus. What I DO know, however, and have been reminded of, is that God is just as trustworthy today as He was yesterday and as He will be forever. May our goal be to glorify His name above all.
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