She peeks around the corner to see if I’m up and drinking my coffee with the paper. If I’m lucky, I catch her in the act (but I always act like I didn’t see her). If I’m not lucky, in just a few minutes I’ll be either screaming like a girl or spitting hot coffee over the latest headlines.
Most weekend mornings begin that way. I’m either pretending to be afraid of a stalking cheetah coming my way (it’s part of the fun) or my heart is leaping out of my chest as my solitude is pierced by a high-pitched, “Daddy!” as the cheetah leaps from the still morning right into the headlines.
I’m usually the first one up on weekends in our house. Sometimes, I’m graced with an hour or so to drink coffee, pray and read the paper in the stillness of a slumbering family. Most times, I’m stalked.
Precociousness herself, embodied in a six year-old little girl who is a morning person.
Ugh. Why, Lord?
I find my life alternating a lot between these two extremes of either pretending to be afraid or actually being afraid.
Sometimes I pretend to be afraid to avoid a bigger fear. Other times, I can’t imagine anything more scary than what I happen to be going through at the moment.
Currently, I’m living in fear over some big challenges we face in our business and so my recent prayer life has found me in the boat, again, with Jesus.
Jesus Calms a Storm
And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him. And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?” Matthew 8:23-27 (ESV)
This is a familiar verse to many of us, for sure.
But, what God did this week as I was prayerfully imagining myself in the boat while the storms rage caught me by surprise.
He brought to mind my weekend mornings.
You see, after my heart has decided that a flight response rapid rhythm is no longer necessary (and I have been able to clean up the spilled coffee) I turn into a librarian.
It happens nearly every time.
Be quiet, your mom is sleeping.
Turn down the iPad, please.
Leave the dogs alone. Do you want breakfast? By the way, food in the mouth does not stop the sounds from emerging.
And it hit me.
Do I trust Jesus enough to let Him sleep?
Usually in times of crisis I’m dropping oars and fishing tackle as loudly as I can.
“Oh good, you’re awake, Lord. Sorry, I didn’t mean to drop that anchor right next to your head. Now that you’re up, can you believe this storm?”
I love my wife enough to protect her sleep and I trust her to take care of all the messes I’ve made when she gets up. And she inexplicably trusts me to handle the mornings without her.
I think God is the same way.
What we model as leaders in times of crisis is one of the foundational things that can create transformational culture in any organization.
Imagine if one courageous disciple demonstrated faith. How might that have affected Jesus’ REM? How might that have affected the fearful disciples’ faith? How might that have impacted their little group’s culture?
Pray, for sure. Hard. But know that if you don’t hear from Him, and He appears to be sleeping, the boat is still on course.