And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. - Mark 4:39 (KJV)
Three words. That’s all it took. “Peace, be still.” The same voice that spoke creation into existence now speaks to creation in its chaos, and immediately the raging storm becomes a great calm. Not a gradual settling, not a slow subsiding, but an instant transformation from tempest to tranquility.
The disciples had seen Jesus heal the sick and cast out demons, but this was different. This wasn’t ministering to human need — this was commanding the elements themselves. No wonder they asked each other, “What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (v. 41).
But before we marvel too much at the miracle, we need to sit with the disciples in their terror. These weren’t landlubbers caught in their first squall. Several of them were seasoned fishermen who had weathered many storms on this very sea. When they woke Jesus saying, “Master, carest thou not that we perish?” they weren’t being dramatic. They genuinely believed they were about to die.
And where was Jesus? Asleep on a pillow in the stern, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around Him. How could He sleep through what threatened to destroy them? How could He rest when they were wrestling for their lives?
Here’s the profound truth: Jesus could sleep through the storm because He was never subject to it. The wind and waves that terrified the disciples were under His authority all along. He didn’t need to stay awake to monitor the situation because no situation is ever beyond His control.
Yet notice what moved Him to action. It wasn’t the storm — it was their cry. The tempest didn’t wake Him, but their desperate plea did. He who slumbers not nor sleeps (Psalm 121:4) chose to sleep through the storm but arose at the sound of His children’s distress.
“Peace, be still.” Jesus spoke to the storm like it was an unruly animal that needed to be brought to heel. And just as demons fled at His word, so the forces of nature instantly obeyed their Creator.
But then comes the searching question: “Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?” (v. 40). Jesus wasn’t rebuking them for waking Him or for being concerned about the storm. He was addressing something deeper — their failure to trust His presence even in their peril.
They had faith enough to bring Jesus into their boat, but not enough to trust Him in their storm. They believed in His power when the seas were calm but doubted His care when the waves rose high. Sound familiar?
We do the same thing. We invite Jesus into our lives, our marriages, our decisions — but when the storms come, we panic as if He’s asleep, as if He doesn’t care, as if we’re about to perish while He remains indifferent to our plight.
But here’s what the disciples would learn: the same Jesus who can calm the storm with a word is the Jesus who is with us in the storm. His presence doesn’t always mean the immediate removal of our problems, but it does mean we’re never facing them alone.
Sometimes He calms the storm. Sometimes He calms us in the storm. But either way, His “Peace, be still” is spoken — whether to the circumstances around us or to the turmoil within us.
What storm is raging in your life today? What winds of adversity are threatening to capsize your faith? What waves of fear are washing over your soul? The One who commanded the wind and waves is in your boat. He may seem asleep, but He’s never absent. He may be silent, but He’s never uncaring.
And when you cry out to Him in faith to Him He will arise. He will speak. And whether the storm ceases or continues, you will know the greater miracle: the presence of the One who is master over every storm.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, forgive me for the times I’ve doubted Your care in my storms. Help me to remember that You are never sleeping on the job, never caught off guard, never overwhelmed by what overwhelms me. Speak Your “Peace, be still” to the storms in my life — both external and internal. Increase my faith to trust Your presence even when I can’t trace Your purposes. Be my peace in every storm. Amen.
Reflection: What storms in your life make you wonder if Jesus cares? How might His presence with you in the storm be more important than His removal of the storm? What would it look like to trust Him even when He seems to be “sleeping”?