In a Boat in the Middle of a Lake: Trusting the God Who Meets Us in Our Stormનમૂનો

God wired us for home. And to a certain degree, our earthly homes are supposed to be miniature Edens. For many of us, home is where we first experience what it means to be loved. It’s where we discover the security of belonging. Homes don’t just define where we live, but in many ways, they define who we are. Which is why leaving home can be so hard. But even these homes we have to eventually leave.

So it’s no surprise that we all experience homesickness in different ways and in different seasons. Eventually we leave our home, but our longing for home, the one God made us for, never leaves us. We all live with that “memory.” We never outgrow homesickness.

We were not born in Eden but outside of it. And as beautiful as this life is, it’s not enough. It’s temporary. A prelude of sorts, of what is to come. It’s why the New Testament describes us as “exiles” and “foreigners” (1 Peter 2:11).

God has made us to hunger and thirst, long and wait, for a new home. A greater home. A restoration of what went wrong in the Garden of Delight. The road to this home is bumpy. It’s full of suffering and weakness and pain. But the weeping is meant to be like a welcome mat. Instead of feeling homesick for the place behind us, we begin to long for a home that is ahead of us.

You might be in a boat in the middle of a lake. But you are not alone. And that lake has another side. One Jesus has promised to get you to. “Let us go over to the other side,” Jesus said. There will be many storms. Some smaller. And maybe some bigger. But there is a shore. We’ll say it again: there is a shore.

The promise of safe arrival.

Rest.

Renewal.

Victory.

Home.

God’s presence. . . .

So let us press on in the storm. Let’s continue to trust the God who meets us in our storm.

Your chaos will cease. It will not last. You have a future. We have a future. And it’s a future filled with God’s goodness and love and beauty. It’s a future filled with God himself.