The Storm Obeyed: Mark 4:35-41

It came down from the hills without warning—as Galilee storms always did—wind screaming across the water, waves that had been gentle swells now rising like walls, crashing over the bow of the small boat. The disciples hauled at ropes, bailed with anything they could find, shouted to be heard over the roar. They were fishermen. They had weathered storms before. But this one was killing them.

And Jesus slept.

He lay in the stern on the wooden seat, his head on a cushion, utterly unconscious to the chaos. Water drenched him. The boat lurched. Still he slept—the exhausted sleep of a man who had poured himself out for crowds all day, the trusting sleep of a child in a father's arms.

Finally, soaked and terrified, they shook him awake. "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?"