Where Is Jesus When Life Falls Apart?

What Mark 4 teaches us about fear, faith, and the storms we never saw coming

By Pastor John Erickson

What do you say to somebody when their whole world has just been turned upside down?

I ask because sometimes we feel a tremendous pressure to fix things with our words. Somebody gets bad news. A relationship falls apart. A diagnosis changes everything. And we start scrambling for the perfect thing to say.

I know that feeling. As a pastor, I can convince myself that if I just come up with the right message, the right illustration, or the right prayer, I can somehow make everybody feel better.

But I once had a conversation with Gina when I was carrying that exact burden. She reminded me of the story where the disciples are in a storm and Jesus calms the sea.

Then she asked a pretty good question: Who actually calmed the storm?

Not the disciples. Not the guy trying to give everybody encouraging advice.

Jesus.

And maybe that's the place we need to begin.

The Sea of Galilee Was No Place to Be Careless

In Mark 4:35-41, Jesus tells his disciples to cross to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. They get into a boat, Jesus settles down to sleep, and a violent storm suddenly blows in.

Some of Jesus' disciples were fishermen. They knew the lake. They knew boats.

And still they were terrified.

I always find that interesting. You know a storm is bad when the fishermen ask the carpenter for help.

The waves begin coming over the sides. The boat is in danger of being swamped. And Jesus is asleep on a cushion.

Now, if I were one of those disciples, I think I'd be asking the same question they asked: 'Teacher, don't you care if we drown?'

Because from their perspective, the evidence wasn't looking particularly encouraging.

Storms Usually Don't Send an Invitation

A lot of the storms we face in life happen that way. Everything seems normal. You're making plans. You're going to work. Life may not be perfect, but at least you know what to expect.

Then the phone rings. Or the email arrives. Or somebody sits across from you and says, 'We need to talk.'

And suddenly you're in a place you never expected to be.

I learned something about small boats on a trip Gina and I took to Kauai before we were married. We went kayaking with some friends. I was determined to show everyone that, despite my size, I was a very capable outdoorsman.

We made it approximately three feet.

I dug my paddle into the water like I was launching a rocket. The kayak flipped almost immediately. We were in hiking clothes, not swimsuits. I was trying to turn the boat over while Gina looked at me like, 'What are you doing?'

The guide was watching us with an expression that said, This is going to be a long trip.

Here's my point: when you're on the water, it doesn't take much for things to get out of control.

And the disciples weren't on a leisurely vacation. They were in a real storm, in real danger, with Jesus apparently doing nothing.

Being Obedient Doesn't Mean Avoiding Storms

Notice something important about this story. Who told the disciples to get into the boat?

Jesus did.

They weren't out there because they had decided to be rebellious or foolish. They were following his direction, and that path took them straight into a storm.

Sometimes we assume that if we're doing what God wants, life should become easier. Things should line up. There shouldn't be so much resistance.

But the disciples' experience shows that obedience and difficulty are not opposites.

Some of the hardest moments of my own life have followed a decision to step out in faith. That doesn't automatically mean the decision was wrong.

The presence of a storm is not proof that God has abandoned us.

Jesus Was in the Boat

The disciples wake Jesus up. He stands and speaks to the wind and the waves. The storm becomes calm.

Then he asks why they were afraid and whether they still have no faith.

I don't read that as an invitation to pretend danger isn't real. The storm was real. The water was coming in. These were men who had every reason to be concerned.

But they were also in the presence of someone they had seen heal and restore people. Someone who had invited them into the boat in the first place.

And this is the detail I keep coming back to: Jesus was with them in the storm.

Asleep? Yes. Apparently unhurried? Absolutely. But he wasn't somewhere else, waiting for them to fight their way to shore before he'd have anything to do with them.

He was right there.

I wonder if we sometimes read God's silence as his absence. We think, If he cared, surely he would have done something by now.

The story of Mark 4 asks us to reconsider that assumption.

Focus on the One in the Boat

When I get nervous on an airplane, I look at the flight attendants. They're used to flying. If they seem relaxed, it helps me relax too.

It has backfired once. During a summer in South America while I was in Bible college, I was flying into São Paulo in a small plane. The turbulence was rough, so I looked toward the flight attendant for reassurance.

She sat down, pulled out beads that I took to be a rosary, crossed herself, and began silently praying.

Well. That was not the reassurance I was looking for.

My strategy has limits. A flight attendant is a human being, too. Mark's story ends by asking a much bigger question about Jesus: Who is this, that even the wind and waves obey him?

The disciples were focused on the waves. Jesus was at peace.

And I wonder what would change if, in the middle of our own storms, we learned to give more attention to him than to all the possible ways things might fall apart.

That doesn't mean we stop acting responsibly. It doesn't mean we ignore danger, fail to ask for help, or pretend a problem will fix itself.

It means we remember that solving every problem was never supposed to rest entirely on our shoulders.

Jesus is the one who calms this storm. That is a revelation of his authority, not a promise that every crisis will end on our timetable. Our part is to follow him, trust him, and turn toward him when the waves rise.

So here's a question worth sitting with: Would you rather be in a storm with Jesus or in a place that looks calm without him?

I know which answer sounds better on paper. Living it is harder.

But the invitation remains. When life falls apart, look to the one who is still in the boat.