Ok, Jesus, are you going to wake up now?  Here I am on this ship in a storm. It’s so black out tonight and the wind is whipping and the waves are crashing over my small boat and I feel so afraid.  Please stop sleeping now and wake up. I’m scared.  Save me.  

But when I touch him gently on the shoulder and he awakens to the thunderous storm, he doesn’t look surprised or afraid. He stands up in the boat and stretches out his arms and the wind and sea become calm.  

I want him to do that to me, too.  I want him to stretch his arms over me and make me calm.  He does, too.  He searches my face and asks, “Why are you so terrified?”   I turn away. I can’t answer.

Today Jesus invites us to respond to that question, to share with him the answer: why am I so afraid?  What is it that I hold so deeply down in my soul that I don’t even want to share it with Jesus?  What is it in our lives that fills us with fears, knots our stomachs and terrifies us?  For each of us it will be different.  

The winds and rains whipping around our lives so furiously – what do they represent? The real terrors that storm through our lives might be fears of acceptance, fears of ever being truly loved or of trying to overcome a terrible betrayal that has left us with scars we believe will never heal.

“Quiet. Be still,” Jesus says to us softly as he lifts his healing arms over us.   This is our chance to place those fears into Jesus’ hands.  We can become fear-less, perhaps not through our own confidence but by trusting in the one who loves us so infinitely in our fears.

We can trust in Jesus. With his arms outstretched over us, he instills in us his healing strength and we find ourselves ready to follow his call to live the gospel. Believing in his presence in our lives, we might be willing to stand at the edge of the boat in the storm, speaking out for the poor and disenfranchised.  

“Quiet, be still,” he invites us.  The waves and winds are still there, but we are stronger, more faith-filled.  We steer the boat toward Jerusalem.