Surging Fear
Jesus Doesn't Only Command the Storm. His Word can Quiet Fearful Hearts as Well
“One day Jesus said to His disciples, “Let’s go over to the other side of the lake.”
So they got into a boat and set out. As they sailed, He fell asleep.
A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped,
and they were in great danger.
The disciples went and woke Him, saying, “Master, Master, we’re going to drown!”
He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. “Where is your faith?” He asked His disciples.
In fear and amazement they asked one another,
“Who is this? He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey Him.”
Luke 8:22-25
There are times when storms befall us so suddenly all sense of reason feels forgotten as we scramble to maintain footing like animals driven by instinct.
I listened to a story once about a time a man took his toddler son for a walk. A half mile into the woods behind his house, he noticed dark clouds filling in the skies overhead. ‘Time to turn around,’ he thought. But the storm came on more swiftly than he imagined it would and the rain fell, fast and heavy as howling winds pressed against them.
He held his son close who, frightened by the sudden cacophony, began wailing his grievances. “I’ve got you,” he assured his child. “I can see home, buddy. Not too far now. I’ve got you.”
I often picture this scene when the storms roll into my own life without warning. My Heavenly Father folds me into His arms and whispers, “I’ve got you, Vanessa. I can see the end. Not too much farther now.” And like that helpless babe in the story, I, too, hold on for dear life often wailing my displeasure. All the while, trusting that my Father knows the way home and will get me there.
Fantasy fiction is among my favorite kind of books to read, and when I find a story inspired by ‘The Story’ all the more is my delight! Author, Jonathan Rogers weaves a marvelous tale based on King David called The Wilderking Trilogy.
In the final installment, The Way of the Wilderking, Aidan (the author’s David figure) and his group of loyal supporters are hiding out from the mad King Darrow in the Sinking Canyons when a torrential rain begins. The company make for the webwork of tunnels they had carved out in hopes of escaping the coming flood.
“We’ve done all we can do,” Errol said. “We are in the hands of the living God.” Then he lay down on his pallet and went to sleep.
His sons and Dobro, on the other hand, were unable to sleep and didn’t even try.Meanwhile, Marvin and the boys were having a prayer meeting out in the tunnel, where the water continued to creep higher and higher. No one had ever known them to pray before, even at mealtimes, but there they were, praying loudly and earnestly, making deals with God, promising to behave themselves if only God would deliver them. Their prayers grew louder and more desperate the higher the waters rose…
Aidan tapped Marvin on the shoulder. “Um, Marvin,” he began, “I think you boys have the right idea, of course, but do you think you could pray a little more quietly? Father is trying to sleep.”
Marvin’s eyes burned with righteous indignation. “I thought your pap was a man of faith. Why ain’t he out here praying with us instead of sleeping?”Aidan smiled. “Father is a man of faith. That’s why he can sleep on a night like this. He prayed for an hour or more this morning, just like every morning, while you were still snoring. He prayed for you by name, in fact, Marvin. I heard him. Father’s been praying all day.
And now he’s resting in the mercy of the living God.”1
I read this series over five years ago, and this is the scene that imprinted on my memory. I want that kind of faith, I remember thinking. The kind of trust in God that allows for sleep despite raging, howling circumstances.
I’ve been fighting fear all week.
And the only weapon to make any difference has been Scripture. Reciting it, out loud, to God and my heart again and again. In the car, I sing it. At the table, I read it. In the dark, I repeat it.
The enemy is on the move. Hatred for Christians continues to grow and I often wonder ‘Will we experience persecution here like first century Christians did?’ Anxiety and depression in our youth have reached epidemic proportions. Watching my own beloved son grapple with them is a helplessness that drops me to my knees. Fear mounts and floods my mind with panic.
Leanna Crawford sings, “Great Aunt Maurine said at a hundred and three / “Write scripture on your heart for when you need it. / ‘Cause anxiety hates Psalm 23 / So just say it to yourself till you believe it.”2
And that is what’s making the difference. Repeating it until I believe it.
I have a friend who exudes the beautiful peace of Christ, and she recently said, “Don’t diminish the miracle of a transformed heart.” And what a beautiful miracle it is when our hearts let go of fear and cling instead to faith.
The pastor who married Rich and me would sing a verse from the hymn “The First Song of Isaiah” before his pastoral prayer and I’ve never forgotten it. It bathes my mind in assurance and reminds my heart that I am never alone. The Lord is my refuge and under His wings, I am safe and secure.
I’ve sung it to my children. My husband sang it to me before he left for a job two weeks ago. And I’ve sung it to myself.
“Surely it is God who saves me.
I will trust in Him and not be afraid.
For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defense.
And He will be my Savior.”3
Yes, anxiety does hate Psalm 23. And so does the Liar.
In First Kings we read the story of God’s prophet, Elijah. In chapter eighteen, Elijah had just carried out a most awesome miracle of God in a victorious dual against Baal’s prophets and was now running for his life. Ahab’s wife, Jezebel, wanted him dead.
Elijah, hopeless and full of despair, flees to the desert where, exhausted, the Lord ministers to him. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” asked the Lord. “I have zealously served the Lord God Almighty. But the people of Israel have broken their covenant with you, torn down your altars, and killed every one of your prophets. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me, too.” Elijah replied. (1 Kings 19:9-10) A few verses later, the Lord tells Elijah that he’s not the last. In fact, He has “reserve[d] seven thousand in Israel—all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal…” (v.18)
The enemy likes us to believe we’re alone. Because isolated, he knows we’re more vulnerable to his lies. And the fear grows.
But God says “Come and talk with me.” (Ps 27:8) Because when we recite scripture to ourselves—out loud—he knows we know the Truth. That even if I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil because He is with me. He uses his rod to protect me from ravenous wolves and prowling lions. His staff pulls me close. He walks before me. Behind me. On either side of me.
I am not alone.
And never will be.
“My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.”
And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.”
Psalm 27:8 NLT
Psalm 27 has been a grounding prayer for me this week. My Bible subtitles it “Triumphant Faith” because despite his harrowing circumstances, David chooses to trust in the Lord. Faith over fear. And when I declare its truths over my life, my faith dispels fear too. Sometimes it takes returning to it again and again over the course of the morning when my breathing begins to constrict and my head feels dizzy with panic before my heart concedes. Sometimes I can only whisper the words. But I stand behind my Shield and lift His Sword of Truth in defiance of fear. “He did not give me a spirit of fear,” I say. “But one of power, and love, and self-control.” (2 Tim 1:7)
And then I read Psalm 27, and His Word soothes my fearful mind like His words calmed the storm at sea.
“The Lord is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?
When evil advances against me
to devour my flesh,
when enemies and foes attack
they will stumble and fall.
Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out,
even then will I be confident.
For in the day of trouble
He will keep me safe in His dwelling;
He will hide me in the shelter of His tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.”
And that rock is Jesus. Strong, Victorious Jesus. The lover of our souls. Our Shepherd. The God of Creation—who quiets the tempest.
So, even as the storm rages, with Him at the helm, we can sleep in peace.
Jonathan Rogers. The Way of the Wilderking. Broadman & Holman Publishers, 2006. pg. 107-108.
If you’re interested, you can find it here on Amazon. Say ‘hello’ to Dobro Turtlebane for me—he’s my favorite. You’ll need to read book one: The Bark of the Bog Owl to be properly introduced.
Well put, as always! ❤️❤️
Beautiful❤️❤️