Finding Peace in the Storm

Growing up, some of my greatest memories were made with my dad and younger brother out on our family boat.

We lived near a lake, and every trip to the marina felt like the beginning of a grand adventure. Some of the clearest reflections come not from when everything went right, but from when the unexpected happened.

Take, for instance, the storms that would suddenly roll in — turning a peaceful cove into a scene of chaos. I vividly remember one day when the storm came upon us so fast and furious that we had to tie off to a bridge pillar and hope for the best. Thunder cracked. Lightning flashed. Yet my personal level of fear remained surprisingly low.

Maybe it was because, at ten years old, I couldn't fully grasp the danger. To me, it felt more like something out of a pirate movie than a real threat.
Or maybe — and more likely — it was because when I looked at my dad, he wasn’t rattled.
He stayed calm.
And because I trusted him, I knew deep down that everything would be okay.

That trust wasn’t blind. It was built over time — an inference drawn from seeing his character lived out every day.
From the moment I entered the scene as his son, he had been steadily proving himself trustworthy through his actions, his words, and his presence.

Reflecting on those memories makes me wonder:
Why, then, is it so much harder to find that same peace when facing the storms of life today as a man?

If I'm being honest, it’s still harder for me to put my full trust in God.
Writing that truth is uncomfortable, but necessary — because I know I’m not alone.
Many men battle the same internal insecurity: we know God is trustworthy, yet in the chaos, we wrestle to fully rest in Him.

For me, there is tremendous hope in knowing that even the disciples — the very ones who traveled side by side with Jesus — struggled with trust.
When I read Mark 9, I’m reminded that these same men had witnessed miracles firsthand, yet they still wrestled to find deep, abiding faith when the storms of life hit them head-on.

It encourages me to realize that struggling with anxiety and trust doesn’t disqualify us — it gives us an opportunity to reassess and reconnect to what we have always recognized to be true, which is that we are protected by God and that He has a plan for each of us. It therefore invites us to lean in even closer to the One who remains calm when our world feels out of control.

If the disciples needed reminders of who Jesus is, then surely there’s grace for us too.
The goal isn’t to have a perfect faith, but a persistent one — a faith that, even when trembling, clings to the Savior who can still say to the storm:
"Quiet. Be still."

Reflection Questions:

1. Where do you instinctively place your trust when storms hit your life?
2. What moments in your past reveal God's faithfulness during your storms?