Two days ago I was going through my phone's Dropbox folder, which is basically a backup of certain files that I can access from my computer or phone. Generally I use this app for business. I found a personal folder where I had stored some things I had written a few years ago and for the first time since, opened and read them. 

I stumbled across a file called "The Storm" and not at all remembering what it was, assumed it was something I wrote about storms because I love storms. I mean, it is about a storm but it wasn't at all what I was expecting. As I read it, the memory of actually writing this came back and the intensity of how I felt at that time also flooded back into my mind. 

To catch anyone up on the context of this little blurb I wrote, you really should be filled in on a story in the Bible because that is the source of inspiration for what I wrote. The story comes from Matthew 8:23-27 and is also retold in Mark, which is the passage I am going to share with you to catch you up. Don’t worry - you don’t need to believe anything in particular to understand this story…it is just simply much easier to understand what I was writing about if you can understand what I was taking as the source of inspiration for my thoughts. So here is that passage of reference:

Mark 4:35-41 NIV

Jesus Calms the Storm

That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

So two years ago I was thinking about this story. I was thinking about the character of Jesus, the timing of His rescue, the fact that in the storms of life when we are completely panicked and running out of hope, He could actually be found sleeping, seemingly not caring at all about our distress.

And so while pondering those questions about the character of God and my faith in an unforeseen future, I wrote this and I decided what better time to share it than right now - the weekend of my due date…and the weekend of Mother’s Day.

I have a dream. Some dreams come quickly and some stay at a distance. They are like clouds formed from the vapour of our sweat and tears. Our dreams come into a life of their own as they hover around us. Some rain down and some bring storms. My dream has been a storm.

It comes to mind suddenly and crashes against my soul, leaving me feeling disorientated and thrown about. If I am the ship, the chosen vessel, I am quite sure I am taking on too much water and am about to sink into the depths of darkness. If I am the passenger, unable to control my fate, I am panicked and afraid to lose everything, including myself. The water that floods over me has a bitter taste and I do all I can to not breathe it in. The motion of back and forth, back and forth, leaves me nauseous and desperate. I couldn't have known this dream would be a journey on rough seas. I couldn't have known it would pour down on me, causing me so much heartache. I boarded this ship not knowing whether it would sink or arrive safely. I just wanted to be a mother.

The fear is real, as my Lord sleeps below deck, seemingly unphased by my pain.

I have everything and nothing and everyday I am aware of it. I have everything. A loving husband, a beautiful dreamy home, loving hilarious friends, a successful career, and all the amenities I need to live and travel and eat and dress. I am a blessed girl with health and a strong sense of determination and will. But then, suddenly, I have nothing. I have no little hand to hold at the supermarket. I have no one to wake me up in the night longing for my embrace. I have no one to chase through the yard. No one to test my patience. No one to expand my heart. I close my eyes and am haunted by ghosts of little lives that haven't yet begun. They are not dead, they just have not lived. But I feel them, somehow alive. Somehow wanting to be loved. Maybe my dream and all this being tossed about is making me a little crazy. Maybe this storm has beaten me up one too many times. I love something that isn't real, that doesn't exist.

I can work to perfect my character and improve upon my traits. I can go from selfish to selfless, procrastinator to "on top of things", apathetic to empathetic. I can change who I am. Through hard work and determination and much prayer, I can improve. But I cannot move the mountain with the sign on the top marked "barren". I can't make life where there is none. I cannot calm the seas that rage against me.

And yet, I know the man who can. Mountains crumble and seas calm before Him. He set the stars in motion and tells the sun when to set. He is all powerful and able to make new life and though I am shaken like a leaf in a hurricane, He is not shaken. He knows the hour in which life will begin in me.
Lord, this storm is more than I can take.
Only you can calm these seas.
I await your awakening.