RECENTLY I read a book by journalist Elizabeth Rush about her trip aboard an Antarctic research vessel.  

The book, called The Quickening, was about climate change and motherhood and the future we all face. In the book, she includes an account of their journey through the Drake Passage, where waves can reach 40ft. It sounds terrifying, but her experienced travelling companions help her through. 

It reminded me of a story in the Bible about Jesus being in a boat with his disciples. A storm came, the waves swelled, the wind blew — and the disciples, experienced fishermen, feared they’d drown. Throughout the storm, Jesus is asleep. One companion wakes him and asks, “don’t you care that we might drown?” Jesus questions their fear, their anxiety, and then tells the sea and wind to stop. They do. 

I’ve been thinking about the storms that we’re facing – the literal, the metaphorical. 

Warming seas, endless wars, depleting soils, divisive politics, loneliness, poverty. It can be easy to think that God doesn’t care – or that God sends storms to test us, even to punish us. There are some who believe this, but that is not the God I know. 

The God I know insistently points towards hope and love, towards peace and renewal. The God I know is there in the boat with us, is there under the rubble in war-flattened places like Gaza, is there with pacific islanders who are having to leave because their homes are being lost to rising sea levels. The God I know weeps when leaders and politicians lie, when a child goes hungry, when biodiversity plummets and rivers are polluted. The God I know weeps when people and planet are not cherished. 

I do not pretend to know why we face storms, but I do know that God says: I am with you. I am with you when things get tough. I am with you even when you feel you’re on your own.  

I’ve been reflecting on what got me through the storms I’ve faced in my own life. It was the right people showing up at the right time. It was an unexpected kindness or offer of help. It was someone deeply hearing me and walking with me. I felt God’s love in all these connections. I realise I never faced a storm alone – even if sometimes the companionship wasn’t immediately obvious. 

This Biblical story is also remarkable because Jesus does not use force to calm the storm – he uses a simple command. Our world can feel noisy, like only the loudest and strongest get noticed. But Jesus reminds me again and again gentleness, calmness, and truthful words carry world-changing power. 

The world now can feel uncertain. There are literal and metaphorical 40ft waves. Jesus does not promise there will be no storms, but he promises to be in the boat with us. Like the disciples, we might need to express our fear and ask for help. But my own experience tells me it will come, that Jesus is in the boat with us, navigating the storm. 

By Elizabeth Lloyd, Crediton Congregational Church