A memorable boat trip

Dark, a chilly breeze. It will take  the best part of an hour to cross over. Jesus is tired. He goes to the back of the boat and curls up on the cushions, pulling His brown cloak tightly around Him. Sandals, a striped robe under the cloak. He hunches His shoulders against the breeze, closes His eyes.

The proper sailors, Peter and James and John, are pulling the sail up, hauling ropes. I am on a thwart bench at the back with Matt and Nat. Desk wallahs like me, no use in a boat. Peter gives us a meaningful look. 'Sit there, you three - and don't touch anything.'

We pull away from the pier. There are three other boats setting off with us. The wind is getting stronger. Nathaniel looks over at Jesus. 'Look at Him. He can sleep anywhere.'

Matthew answers, 'I don't think He ever really sleeps. He rests, though. He's dead beat.'

Gusts, now. Strong. Peter shouts to trim the sail and they haul on the ropes, the wind whipping the sail as the boat leans over heavily. Noisy wind, but Jesus is still lying there, eyes closed, looking peaceful.

The boat leans hard over and then rights itself violently as Peter yells at the crew, the wind whipping his voice away.

Mark 4, 35-41

'Don't think he was expecting this,' shouts Matthew, pulling his cloak tighter and gripping the side of the boat for dear life.

A sudden squall and some of the men are knocked over, crying out as they fall. I'm scared now, as wave after wave wallops into the boat and Peter and Andrew roar at everyone to bale, bale.

Even Matt and Nat grab fish buckets and start baling. I am just clinging to anything I can reach.

Suddenly, the boat jerks in the wind and I tumble off the seat towards the rear, almost falling right on to the Lord. He opens His eyes and looks directly at me, right into my eyes. He is quite still and utterly calm amid the howl of the gale and the creaking and cracking of the wood of the ship and the frantic activity of the men. I'm panicking a bit as Peter yells towards the back, 'We're in real trouble here, Lord!', reproach in his voice as if to say, 'Still sleeping? We could really do with one of your miracles right now!'

Amid the turmoil, Jesus is looking deep into my eyes, into my soul, and in a quiet clear voice that I can hear through the storm, asks me, with a sad smile, 'You still don't trust me, then? Don't you know I guard you as the apple of my eye?' He reaches out and puts His arm tightly round my shoulders, holding me safe.

Eternal Love has a Name, and He calls me by my name, His strong arm around me, no matter what. Infinite Power has a Face, a Face full of love.

Even in His sleep He guards me as the apple of His eye.

One arm tight around my shoulders like a big brother, He raises His other hand just slightly and, looking up, past the snapping sail, says quietly, 'Enough now, be still.' Not shouting, just a soft command. But it is a command and it is awesome to hear.

Immediately the wind drops, the air is quiet, the waves calm and the boat comes right on its keel. As the clouds begin to clear, all the men gawp at each other, stunned. Mystified. Relieved!

And then to Peter and the others He calls out, 'Where is your faith, little children?' and He is smiling at them. 'Did you really think I would let my beloved friends go down in the storm?'