Blog - Page 38 of 185

and your storm arrives…

Look up Mark 4:39–41 on your bible app. This one is for you… The storm came quickly, and it came fierce. The kind of storm that strips any fisherman of his confidence, no matter how many years he’s spent with the sea beneath his feet. In this drama, the disciples weren’t weekend sailors looking for some spare cash – they were men born with salt in their veins, so to speak. Nets in their hands before they could write their names. They had grown up trusting their skill, their strength, their instincts. But that night, with the wind like a Netflix drama, howling like a thousand voices and the sea rising up, thundering and smashing against them, even seasoned fishermen were out of their depth.

And in the stern of the boat, the Son of God slept.

Slept.

You can almost see it. Feel it. Hear it. Rain lashing against their faces, wood creaking under pressure, hearts pounding with fear. Every man doing all he can to steady the boat, yet glancing back over ‘there’, toward the one with head down, who sleeps and the silence from Jesus must have been deafening. They had seen Him heal lepers, cast out demons and speak with authority that made scholars tremble, but now? Well, He sleeps and in their panic, it feels like indifference.

Perhaps you’ve known that silence. Perhaps you can hear it now. Today. When the storm in your life surges, when the future feels like a dark sea with no shoreline in sight, and the One you’ve trusted seems hidden, quiet, unmoved – that’s the moment the disciples faced and maybe that’s you today, even as you read this.

They had not yet grasped who was in the boat with them. Not really. Not fully.

If they had, they might have remembered that the sea itself was His idea, that wind and wave have no will of their own apart from His. Yet fear has a way of shrinking our faith and magnifying the storm. It makes us forget the power in our company. We cry out, “Don’t you care if we perish?” when the truth is, He is the only reason we will not.

Church leaders (as you may be aware) know this too, walking the walk, talking the talk, doing the works of ministry — and yet, when storms come, they discover they’ve been leaning on their own seamanship. Skilled, trained, diligent – and still afraid. That should not be so. Here’s the gospel: it doesn’t end there. What we lack in strength, He makes up in sovereignty. Where we fail to hold fast, He remains unshaken. Never underestimate the gospel.

There is something holy about that moment when they finally shake Him awake. A trembling, desperate hand on His shoulder—who touched Him? Yet unlike the woman with the issue of blood, He does not stop to ask. Her touch was faith reaching for healing. Theirs was fear reaching for survival. Not the same, but still a touch. Still a cry. Still enough. The storm roaring. The boat lurching. Just one touch, one desperate nudge, and the silence of heaven is broken. It was right to wake Him. What we always need—whether in calm or chaos—is Him. Always Him.

And He rises. No scrambling, no grasping for rope or oar. He speaks. That’s all. Words cutting through the howl of the storm like a blade: “Peace! Be still!” And creation bends immediately to His voice. The sudden silence was a roaring, tumultuous cacophony – full of majesty, awe, and power.

That there, is one of the best sentences I have ever written!

That boat ride was never about testing their skill. It was about showing them, up close, who He really is. They thought they were fighting to save Him along with themselves. He was the only one who could save them, and He still is.

If discouragement has wrapped itself around you like that storm, if you feel the silence of heaven while the waves rise higher – know this: He has not abandoned the boat. He may sleep, but He does not slumber as men do. His rest is not neglect, but authority. He is Lord even when He is silent.

The truth is simple though never easy to swallow, you are never the hero of your own story. You cannot calm the storm, but you can reach out, shake Him, cry out His name – and that touch, that prayer, that act of desperate faith, will find Him more than able. When He stands, the storm has no choice but to bow.

…with enhanced understanding.

an open book sitting in front of a stained glass window

My friend Matt preached recently, and in his sermon he alluded to the text, “As far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us,” pointing to the great work of Christ. Those words stayed with me, pulling my thoughts forward until they landed on Romans 8:1.

I expect you already know and love Romans 8:1 and all that it means in the context of Paul’s letter to the Romans, but I want to tell you something really brilliant about it – it will challenge your brain, but to do that, we need first to take a moment for a ‘rabbit trail’ to see Him as He really is – it’s important, not as we sometimes imagine Him in the hurried corners of our theology, but as Scripture presents Him, often: the Lord. To do that, we might need to readjust our theological clothing, do up a button, check a collar, straighten what has slipped out of place, and stand before Him with a clearer view.

When we speak of His Lordship, it’s not simply that He knows everything, is everywhere present, and can do all things – those things are true, but they are not the whole picture. His omniscience means nothing to us if it can change. His omnipotence would be terrifying if His will could be swayed toward evil. His omnipresence would be unbearable if His character shifted like shadows. Think of the severe consequences, not only for yourself, but for all of us. What if God doesn’t know what I am going through, or hasn’t the power to intervene and deliver? What if He is nowhere in sight? Cue the good news …

This is where immutability steps in – not as a theological accessory, but as a major and necessary pillar. Enter Malachi. Malachi brings us profound encouragement, “For I the LORD do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed” (Malachi 3:6). You are not consumed because the Lord’s purposes, promises, and character have not shifted since He spoke light into the darkness. (Perhaps before that, having been chosen before the foundation of the earth to be holy and blameless before Him.) The same Lord who walked with Adam in the garden, who led Israel through the Red Sea, who came in flesh to bear our sin, is the Lord who reigns now. He has not changed in His justice. He has not altered in His mercy.

Here we go …

If God could change, then the gospel would be no more secure than our moods. The cross was not a mid-course correction – it was written into the story before the story began. The Lamb was slain from the foundation of the world, which means the grace that reached you today began far back in eternity past, when there was nothing – not even the possibility of something. It was a nothing beyond our comprehension, a nothing so complete it was infinitely nothing – and into that absolute ‘nothingless’ void, God spoke. And it will not run dry in eternity future. I hope that got your attention, it took me ages to express it – so poorly! Phew!

This immutability is what makes His Lordship unshakable. His authority cannot be contested. His control over history cannot be interrupted. His presence cannot be withdrawn from His people. And because His nature is fixed in holiness and love, all that He is works for the good of those who are His.

Let’s bring this to Romans 8:1. “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” If the Lord were changeable, that verse would be a gamble. No condemnation… for now – unless, of course, He changes His mind. But because the One who justifies is the unchanging Lord, there will never be a day when He wakes to find a reason to reverse your pardon. There will never be a moment when the verdict shifts from “no condemnation” back to “guilty.”

Romans 8:1 is not just a beautiful sentence – it is the legal declaration of an unchanging King. The cross has settled the matter. The empty tomb has sealed it. The Lord’s immutability has made it eternal. And because He is omniscient, He already knew the worst about you when He declared it. Because He is omnipotent, nothing can overthrow His decision. Because He is omnipresent, He will never leave you to face your accuser alone. There! It has all come together.

To grasp Romans 8:1 fully, you must see the Judge as Lord – not just all-knowing, all-powerful, and ever-present, but unchanging in His will to save you.

If He is Lord like that, then “no condemnation” means forever. It means the gavel has fallen once and will never fall again in judgment against you. And that is brilliance – not because we have said it well, but because He has done it perfectly.