In Matthew 8, starting at verse 23, we see Jesus get into a boat with his disciples. Suddenly, a furious storm arises on the lake. I visited this lake in Israel and learned that storms there can appear out of nowhere because of the bowl-like geography. It’s crazy to think that this is real, historically documented. The waves begin to crash over the boat, but Jesus is calmly sleeping. The disciples, panicking, wake him up, crying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!”

Jesus, unbothered by the chaos, replies, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” He then stands up and rebukes the wind and waves, and the storm completely calms down. The disciples are amazed and ask, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!” This passage displays a remarkable act of power, but what stands out most to me is how Jesus was sleeping through it all. He wasn’t anxious or worried about the storm, which reflects how we should respond when facing our own storms.

I remember revisiting this passage and thinking about the power of God’s authority. If Jesus can sleep in the middle of a storm, shouldn’t we learn to trust Him more? It’s like seeing someone you respect stay calm when you're freaking out. If they're not worried, why should you be? Tom, my boss, is a great example of this. He loves golfing, and whenever I’d be stressing about work, I’d hear someone say, “If Tom’s golfing, you don’t need to worry.” It was a great reminder that sometimes, when things feel overwhelming, the best thing to do is trust the one who’s leading.

Jesus’ calmness in the storm doesn’t mean He's disconnected. It means He’s in complete control. When I don’t feel God’s presence or don’t hear from Him, instead of panicking, I’ve learned to view His silence as an invitation to rest in His peace. When He’s quiet, I can be still, mirroring His calmness instead of rushing for answers.

In the story, even though the disciples had little faith, Jesus still calmed the storm for them. It shows that God moves on our behalf, even when our faith is weak. He doesn’t need to; He chooses to—because He loves us. It reminds me of a quote by Dallas Willard when asked to describe Jesus in one word: “unhurried.” Jesus isn’t rushing through things; He’s a calming, peaceful presence. When He rebukes the storm, it’s not through yelling or commanding with aggression. It’s through a simple, gentle statement: “Peace, be still.”

That level of authority, where you don’t need to raise your voice or panic, is astounding. When you truly have authority, you don’t need to plead, scream, or beg. You simply act from a place of confidence, just as Jesus did.

The disciples were in awe, asking, “Who is this that even the wind and waves obey him?” It would be shocking for anyone to calmly command a storm to stop—so different from how we expect people to act in moments of chaos. Jesus wasn’t reacting out of fear but from a place of total authority. And that’s what He invites us into: trusting in His authority over everything, even the storms of life. The safest place we can be is in the center of His will, just like Jesus knew He was.

In this passage, I see a reflection of how we’re called to live—trusting that if Jesus isn’t worried, neither should we be. We don’t need to fear the storms in life when we know God is in control. Even when we don’t fully understand His ways, we can build a deep trust in His faithfulness, just like the disciples did as they journeyed with Him. And over time, with each encounter of His faithfulness, we build our own ‘stones of remembrance,’ just like in the story of the Jordan River, where each miracle strengthens our faith for the future.

It’s this trust in God’s authority that shapes how we face challenges—knowing that He’s in control, that He’s already shown us His power, and that His peace will always calm our storms.

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