Rough Waters and Stormy Times

Have you been on the water during a storm?  When the forces of nature leave you with no option but to "weather the storm"?

I have had 2 experiences like this on a 38-foot sailboat.  The first was when I was new to sailing.  There were 6 on board and we were returning to the marina after an amazing 2-week trip up to the North Channel.  We had anchored in a remote spot for our last sail across Georgian Bay.  As good sailors, we did check the weather channel before setting out.  The reception was a bit spotty and we did know that there was some rain in the forecast.  The skies were gray but not stormy.  It was going to be at least 12 hours to make the voyage.  We set out early as planned.  Soon there was no land in sight.  And then it stormed.  We made a mistake with the sail and learned that even a little bit was too much for the storm.  We made it through the storm lesson learned.  And then we were hit with another storm.  All we could do was wait it out.  Being tossed about, heeling over, trying to steer to reduce the impact.  I was grateful my kids had chosen to sleep in and were rolling around in their berth - not knowing the fear of the moment.  And the storm passed.  But the weather wasn't finished with us yet.  A third storm tested us again.  When we finally made it into our slip at the marina that evening, it was a sunny calm summer day.  

That was our first trip on the sailboat.  Our sailing years were bookended with storms!  Our last trip had us in the roughest waters we'd been on.  We'd been sailing for 8 years now and had more experience.  This time we waited out a storm in the anchorage we'd been staying.  All but 1 other boat headed to port before the storm.  What we hadn't counted on was the lasting effect on the water of a storm.  Rough waters and high waves don't end when the storm passes.  All that wind motion stirs up the water and it lasts until all that energy is expended.  We set out thinking we'd waited out the storm.  We hadn't.  There was more storm to come and the waters had waves that were bigger than we'd sailed through.  When all you see is a wall of water beside your boat, you know you're at the mercy of the water.  It's all black and white.  A wall of black water and the white as it crashes over the bow.  This was the only time I was seasick.  We took turns steering.  And heard maydays on the radio from boats thrown onto the rocks.  We were in deep open water but had to make it through some narrow channels later.  We had to weather the storm first.

Both these times on rough waters were experiences of helplessness.  All we could do was steer to reduce the impact and pray.  Sometimes in life that's all we can do.  Stay the course and pray. 

In the midst of stormy times in our lives, we can lose hope and let fear overwhelm us.  What about looking back at the storms we have weathered rather than dwelling on the current storms?  What if we find God acting in those past storms, bringing us through them?  See the growth and change. See the courage and faith.  Know that courage and faith can again bring us through.  Let hope be bigger than fear.  Hold the steering wheel and do what you can.  Have faith.  The storm will pass.

Let us walk each other home

When God rests

his gaze upon us

we become

Beloved.

the object of God's affection

For God so loved the whole world...

 

We become vessels

of love

being loved

loving

 

Love

transforming

and restoring us

whole

 

For such is the love of God

that no pebble was left

unturned

No distance too vast

to cross

It Is Finished.

 

Through death

to life,

love comes

in the eyes

of the beholder

beholding

you.

 

Beloved, Come,

Let us walk each other home.

~ Bob Holmes #comeintothequiet #savoringgrace

#215children

When they buried the children
What they didn't know
They were lovingly embraced
By the land
Held and cradled in a mother's heart
The trees wept for them, with the wind
they sang mourning songs their mother's
didn't know to sing
bending branches to touch the earth
around them.  The Creator cried for them
the tears falling like rain.

Mother Earth held them
until they coud be found.
Now our voices sing the mourning songs.
with the trees.  the wind.  light sacred fire
ensure they are never forgotten as we sing
JUSTICE

                                               - abigail echo-hawk

The Trinity

The Holy Spirit’s Groaning

Few sounds capture a groan like birth pangs. It is the raw sound of life and birth as well as of pain. It is the guttural desire for the end of the waiting for what has been anticipated and desired. For any who have been present through such an event, it is difficult to ever forget. It is in equal parts beautiful, stunning, and holy, as well as raw, painful, and horrific.

“Creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves . . . groan inwardly while we wait for adoption,” writes Paul to the church in Rome. He describes aptly that painful wail of our souls for the redemption we know so well, the restoration of all things promised in Christ.

As Lutherans we know this all too well as the “now but not yet” proposition of our faith. We have been told of the return of the Messiah. We prepare for this coming and see how the whole of creation groans for her own restoration. We join this creation waiting for our own hearts, souls, and bodies to be restored. We know this is coming and as in pains of labor groan for this reality. While we wait, we are given a midwife, a Spirit of God to join us in our waiting for the birth of a new world and a new reality. This gift is given this day, the day of Pentecost.

May the Spirit join us in our cry to God, eagerly awaiting the begotten, the Son of God, Jesus.

from Sundays and Seasons