My favorite professor in Bible college once reminded us that sometimes Jesus walked on water and sometimes He took a boat. So profound. Sometimes Jesus defied the laws of this world and did things instantly, and then sometimes He got His people from one side to the other in a more traditional way. There are times He does the miraculous for us and times He does it in us. Both ways, He gets us on the other side of water we never could have crossed on our own. I’ve never really had Him do any “walk on water” miracles in my life, but I’ve taken countless boat rides with Him. I was just sure we were going to walk on water this time.
I have been to some high heights and some low lows in my life. Over the last two years, both extremes have been taken to even greater latitudes. This last surgery was difficult. They woke me in the middle to dial in my implant, and the invasiveness of it closed in on me and woke my claustrophobia too. It hasn’t yet slept well. Nausea set in immediately and threatened to undo all the work. I’ve spent the week feeling like I’m being strangled from inside and out. The fear of doing something to shift my implant has fanned anxiety. The challenge to not cough has been overwhelming. Indirect complications sent me to the ER. I was just starting to feel human again after a week, and then I went in for a follow-up appointment. My doctor said that this surgery fixes 98% of the people, but she’s concerned that I might be in the bottom 2. I hit a new low that day.
I almost didn’t share these thoughts, but I decided my story would be incomplete without them. That night it all closed in on me. The process seemed never ending. My mind was spinning in so many different directions, and I couldn’t reel it in. I sat recalling difficult situation after difficult situation that I’d been through in my life and how God came after me every time. Every time. That night, I had a crushing feeling that no one was coming for me this time. He wasn’t coming. The suffocating thought undid me. It exhausted me. I poured those thoughts at His feet and went to sleep.
The next morning, He wouldn’t let it lie. The Holy Spirit whispered, “My daughter, you needed Me in the boat with you for this one. You needed to rest on Me. This storm has been dark and many times you’ve been unable to see, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t been there. You think I’m not coming, but you’ve never left the palm of My hand.” It can be easy to make judgments in the dark…assessments based on how we feel. I have spent years learning to take my thoughts and feelings captive. This difficulty has challenged those skills at a whole new level.
I don’t like this boat. I told Him as much, and He didn’t seem offended. He’s such a faithful friend. The Holy Spirit has never stopped whispering. I am thankful for that. The ride would have been unbearable otherwise. I still don’t understand it all, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that He is who He says He is. I know He does what He says He will do. I know I’m His, and He doesn’t forsake His own. Sometimes all we can do is tether ourselves to the truth and hold on until the storm calms.