‘Tis the season yet again. Not Christmas. Not Easter . . . yet. I’m talking about storm season, when all the TV shows are preempted by special weather announcements about possible severe thunderstorms with hail and lightning and such. If we’re really lucky (said sarcastically), then we might get a tornado watch.

But lately, it’s been a bit much. Sunday night, there was a tornado warning complete with sirens going off in the neighborhood that interrupted my nightly sleep and made me super tired the next day. I thought surely that can’t happen again for a while.

Lo and behold on Wednesday it happened again. Three times. Three separate times the tornado sirens went off, and I had to trudge downstairs and wait it out. Each time, I was increasingly annoyed. I knew that I’d be a real zombie the next day.

Storms are no fun. Truthfully, I’d much rather watch a storm from inside a safe place than to be out in the middle of it trying to drive home. But if I really had my pick, I’d go for option #3 which is None of the Above, thanks all the same.

hThen I remembered the scene in the Gospels where the disciples were out in the middle of the lake during a ginormous pop-up storm and were on the verge of capsizing. They were freaking out (as I would have been) and watching the water enter the boat faster than they could bail it out.

But then in one account, Jesus is right there in the boat, asleep. Such a perfect picture of the serenity that comes from absolute trust. Then in another storm, He comes out to them, walking on the waves of water.

Sometimes, the best place to find Jesus is in the middle of a storm. Probably we wouldn’t be looking for Him otherwise. We might give Him a token shout-out of praise or a nighttime prayer, but otherwise we’re trusting in our day planners and our itineraries and our gumption. Often it’s only in the midst of the waves and the wind that we cry out to Jesus in desperation.

I love how Psalm 77 is telling of the goodness of God, yet also the imagery is prophetic:

“The waters saw You, O God,
the waters saw You and writhed,
even the depths shook.
The clouds poured out water,
the skies resounded,
Your arrows flashed back and forth.
The sound of Your thunder was in the whirlwind.
Lightning lit up the world.
The earth trembled and shook.
Your way was in the sea,
and Your path in the mighty waters,
but Your footprints were not seen” (Psalm 77:17-20, TLV).

When we’re in storms, we might not know it, but Jesus is on the way. His way is still often through the sea and His footsteps are still unseen.