2.21.17 (Through the Storm)


“It’s flooding!”

I groan as Maknae shakes me awake. “It’s flooding,” she repeats. “We need your help.”

It turns out that the roof is leaking even more, and so the rain water is pouring in the house through the ceiling. While other neighborhoods had floodwater coming in from the front door, our floodwater was coming in from the top. In order for our house to not turn into an indoor swimming pool (as fun as that sounds), we must mop up the water.

The problem is, the water is coming in almost as fast as we can mop it up.

Here we are, at 8:00 am, getting our morning exercise by mopping up rainwater. It’s tiring, mundane work. I get splashed by the water rolling in from the ceiling multiple times.


I’m tired. I just woke up. Do I really have to do this right now?, I think. I mean, I like rain storms, but not like this.

It seems like our mopping is an endless cycle of aching work, and my heart is weighed down with anger and complaints.

Don’t we all experience our own storms in our lives? Sometimes we have storms where we can’t see anything except the harsh waters in front of us. We struggle through the winds, but we can’t take these Sisyphean tasks for much longer. We long for any kind of hope that will save us from choking in our own misery, our pain, our hopelessness. The clouds darken our heart until we forget what it once felt like to be bathed in sunlight. We’re alone on this boat, and there is nothing left to do but drown.

We cry out, our last hope that someone, anyone, will be able to hear us. Save us. Does anyone care that we are perishing?

Suddenly, our clouded eyes catch a glimpse of sunlight. We squint, not sure if it’s just a trick of the eyes.

The light is coming from someone, a man, sitting right there on the boat. We did not realize someone was in the boat with us all this time. We vaguely recall someone who was there when the waters were calm- Someone we then forgot about when we were overwhelmed by the storm.

He was there the whole time. Why are you so afraid? He asks. Did you not know that I have been with you? Do you have so little faith? All we needed to do was look away from the clouds and rain for once, and look into His face.

And so I do.

And that’s when everything changes.

Though the clouds are still dark, sunlight breaks through, illuminating the crashing sea. Though the rain still hits against my cheek, my misery and pain are gone. Though the wind still chills my bones, there is hope that warms my heart. A peace that persists against all odds. A Friend who is always there beside us.

So as I mop and wipe yet another drop of rain off my face, I can sing a new melody in my heart.

With Christ in the vessel we can smile at the storm, smile at the storm, smile at the storm.


2 thoughts on “2.21.17 (Through the Storm)

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