There are times when we find ourselves lodged between the idealized memories of yesterday and the uncertain events of tomorrow. Like being strapped down to a gurney and mechanically conveyed into an MRI tube, such moments can bring anxiety. The solution for many of us is an involuntary reaction: fight! “Get me out of this coffin!” But we don't put it like that. Instead, we get busy—intentionally swamped. Row harder. Drive faster. Take on more cases. Fill in every last blank space on the Google Calendar until, well, until you can't. “By then,” we reassure ourselves, “the storm will pass. The MRI test will be over. The straps will come off. We will escape the pressure by exerting more pressure. But, of course—you know—it doesn't work. We know that, but what else is there? The uncontrollable events of an approaching storm begin to unfold before us.
Enter the Savior asleep in the boat, in the storm, despite the frantic orders of the crew: “ Heave to!” “Lower the sheets!” “Cut the jib!” “Stay low!” “Where is the Lord?” We seem always to be asking that question. “Lazarus is dying! Where is Jesus?” “The crowds are growing! Success! Okay, where is the One they came to see?” “Where is Jesus?”
Ask the planets in perfect order. Observe the complexity of life held together by an invisible but discernible power. Inquire and leave your anxious thoughts at the foot of the cross, where perplexity and providence meet, and Isaac sees the Sacrifice promised to his father.
There are times when we find ourselves lodged between the idealized memories of yesterday and the uncertain events of tomorrow. Like being strapped down to a gurney and mechanically conveyed into an MRI tube, such moments can bring anxiety. The solution for many of us? Fight. Call the whole thing off! Row harder. Drive faster. Take on more cases. The uncontrollable events of an approaching storm begin to unfold before us. Enter the Savior asleep in the boat.
This message is called “I Want to Trust in Your Sovereign Grace.” I pray the truth of the Gospel in the biblical text, through the power of the Holy Spirit, will give you peace until the wind and the waves are calm, until Lazarus walks forth and belief becomes biography.
I have added a song I wrote, the first after I located the Savior in the boat. Though I recorded it in about 2005, the song had been in my mind since about 1985. I offer it with a prayer that the words and music might serve as a complimentary companion to the message below.