In Jesus' Boat

“Suddenly a violent storm came up on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by waves; but He was asleep…” (Mt 8:24). In the waves and storms of life, why not fall asleep with Jesus on the boat? After all, the disciples are meant to imitate their Master.

Falling asleep with Jesus on the boat amidst life’s turbulent waters may sound like a funny or impossible thing to do, but again why not? Maybe it’s easy for me to say since I’m a cloistered nun, living a rather sheltered life in her enclosure. Yet, God does not exclude us from dark stormy seas just as He didn’t exclude His disciples back then. “Whoever wishes to come after me, must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me” (Mt. 6:24).

So, how do I sleep in my little boat with Jesus, you ask? I don’t do it perfectly nor am I strong enough to practice it all the time, but when given the grace, He asks me to close the eyes of my soul to everything outside and simply be with Him who loves me more than anyone else I know. Everything else can fall by the wayside because I know He loves me enough to protect me. 

I’m not running away from the storm. I’m not panicking or trying to take control myself. I’m going to seek and find the eye of the storm: that sweet spot found in the silence and trust of prayer, that meeting place with Jesus within who sees it fit for Himself to fall asleep undisturbed in our boat. And if the Master sleeps so will I. That is the extent He asks us to trust Him if only “we have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us” (1 Jn 4:16).

 Yet because we are imperfect humans, – we are frail and weak, and I myself have endless weaknesses – we sometimes can’t help but wake up from our peaceful slumber and look out at the rough seas. We become afraid and overwhelmed. We are paralyzed by our helplessness. We begin to realize we are very little before God’s Face. What then?

Well, “the Word is the sword of the spirit” (Eph 6: 17). When we have no words amidst the struggle, the Word becomes our word. We cry out from that deep place in expectant hope for “though the waters rage and foam, God is for us a refuge and strength” (cf. Ps 46). We say to our souls: “Why are you cast down? Hope in God I will praise Him still, my Savior and my God” (Ps 43: 5). We lift our eyes from things that pass away and we “seek what is above, not what is on earth” (Col 3:3) for we are here now only for a “little while” (1 Peter 1: 6), placing all our confidence in that “lasting city that is to come” (cf. Heb 13: 14).

We pray from that deep place, and that singular cry sounds loud and clear in God’s ears. It is that precious prayer of desperation, of persistence, and of hope that moves the Heart of God so forcefully that He does rebuke the seas in His glorious timing. So we sleep and we cry; and in that, we remember that we are only little children before the Father’s face. What was once our despair now becomes our hope! In the violent storm, we are becoming the little ones who He has called greatest in His Kingdom, the ones who He bids forth to come to Him (Mt 19: 14). And very soon, without us even knowing, we will have crossed to the other side of the sea.

 Sr. Talitha of the Trinity, O.C.D.