Jesus Calms the Storm

Peter had fished this lake since he was a boy. He knew every wave by name. So why was he watching the sky?

Thirty years of nets and knots. "These hands have never let me down," he said.

Jesus had taught crowds all day long. He was tired right down to his sandals.

"Let's cross to the other side," Jesus said.

Peter laughed and slapped the hull. "In MY boat? You'll sleep like a baby."

They pushed off into the shallows. The water was warm and calm as a bath.

WHUMP. The sail filled. The boat leaned into the wind and ran.

John watched the shore get smaller. Then smaller. Then gone.

Jesus lay down in the back of the boat and put his head on a cushion.

In one minute he was fast asleep. Not a worry in the world.

Peter took the tiller. Everyone was safe. He was the one keeping them that way.

Out in the middle, the stars began to go out. One. Then ten. Then all of them.

Andrew tasted the wind and did not like it. "Peter…"

"It'll pass," said Peter. "I know this lake."

The lamp jumped. Its little flame lay flat on its side.

CRASH. The first wave came right over the side.

Then the storm woke all the way up. RUMBLE. CRACK. The little boat groaned.

Peter hauled on the tiller. The lake tore it out of his hands.

John wrapped both arms around the mast and squeezed his eyes shut.

"BAIL!" Peter shouted. He threw the bucket out again and again and again.

Andrew stopped. "It's coming in faster than we can throw it out."

Peter looked back at the sleeping man. Then he looked away. He could still fix this.

He pulled the sail down hard. It ripped from top to bottom. BANG.

Now the water was up past their knees. The boat sat low and heavy.

"WE'RE GOING TO SINK!" John screamed.

Peter looked down at his hands. Thirty years of nets and knots. Not enough.

So he did the one thing he had not tried. He turned around.

"Teacher!" He shook him. "Teacher, wake up!"

"Don't you CARE that we're drowning?"

Jesus opened his eyes. He was not frightened at all.

Then he stood up. The wind pulled at his robe. He did not hurry.

He looked straight at the storm. "Peace," he said.

"Be still."

And it stopped. All of it. The loudest quiet anyone had ever heard.

The stars came back. The lake held every one of them.

Nobody moved. Water dripped off their noses and plinked on the deck.

Jesus turned to him. "Peter. Where is your faith?"

Peter looked at his hands. "I thought I could hold it," he said. "By myself."

Jesus wasn't cross. He put a hand on Peter's shoulder and smiled.

John whispered, "Who IS he? Even the wind does what he says."

Peter reached down and touched the water. It was smooth as a mirror.

Somebody lit the lamp again. This time the little flame stood up straight.

They crossed to the other side, just like Jesus said they would.

John jumped out first. The sand was already warm.

Peter looked back at the lake he thought he knew so well.

He knew the sea. He was only just learning who was in his boat. And when the storms come to you — you are not in your boat alone.