When the storm hits, it is far louder than our thoughts. Our ears long for the captain’s voice-when the storm hits, we trust in the commands relayed at us. The waves shaking our once steady grounds begin to shake, awakening us from our slumber. The rain hits our faces hard, blinding us-there is a mixture of fear and exhilaration in the unknown. We must rely on the captain’s voice to guide us home. 

And then there are sunny days. the days where the lighthouse is in clear focus. Where we can rejoice in where we see our ship sailing; and we are blinded by the sun’s reflection on the water’s ripples. Yes, we hear the bird’s sing, and we see our captain smiling at us as he drives the ship home. 

It is not the storm that I fear. No-time has told me that I am able to handle the storm. And times of safe travels bring more laugh lines to my brow. I do not fear the beauty. 

It is the eye of the storm that grows me weary. The time of waiting between the storm’s hit and the coming of something greater-either a heavier storm or beaming rays of light. The in-between has power to wreck me. And yet, this is where You have called me to. 

When I fear the waves’ crashing, Your voice is louder-You guide me. I feel Your wings over me. 

But in the eye, the silence gives my mind freedom to speak. Your voice is a gentle whisper in the wind. My thoughts are flaming arrows-shoot, shoot, shooting fast through me, inviting me to question, doubt, and grow anxious. 

The eye invites me to be still. The eye reminds me that it was never me fighting in the storm. 

Be still and know that I AM God. 

The LORD will fight for you, you need only be still.

You know me too well, Beloved Captain-I prayed years ago that I would never live a comfortable life

and I am far too comfortable in the fiery furnace. 

It is in the waiting room where I am far too weak to stand-and so I fall to my knees, and remember who is Lord 

and who is child.