That tiny Whisper...

I'm a pretty loud talker; I know that about myself.

I can also whisper, but that happens less frequently.

And when I'm seeking God's guidance for a big dilemma I'm facing, I would prefer He provide a bright neon sign or a noisy announcement–especially when all the options frighten me. I had to reach this ripe age to stop wishing for the loud answer.

I've developed a new motto. It's quite simple, really.

Stay in the boat with Jesus...

...until He tells you to get out of the boat. 

For many years, I clung to the story of Jesus asleep in the boat during the storm. His disciples panic and wake Him up, pleading with the Lord to do something. They are certain this will be their ending if He doesn't wake up and intervene. (Matthew 8:23-27)

Christ in The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Rembrandt, ca 1633

You can see a lot is happening in the painting of this story. So many emotions and so much chaos. But look at Jesus' face. He is calm. He is listening. He is loving. Always.

Stay in the boat, I've told myself countless times. If I believe Jesus is my Savior, and that He is truly present in good times and bad, then I need to just stay in the boat when the storm hits.

But I've learned that sometimes, we are supposed to get out of the boat. At times, life can reach a critical point, and it's time to get out of the boat.

I’ve had to do it. 

More than once. It's not an easy thing to do.

How do we know whether to stay in or get out?

God will let us know!

Although I've prayed many times that He would eliminate the incorrect choice, or just knock me over the head to let me know for sure, that's usually not the Lord's way.

His way is gentle. Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:11)

As we heard on Sunday, Jesus usually speaks to us in gentle, subtle ways.

Sometimes, like for Elijah, He whispers in the wind. It's a soft caress that reaches all the way to your core. (1Kings 19:9-13)

Sometimes, like for Peter, He says only one word: Come. There's no need for explanation or details. It's a command that seeps into your bones and gives you courage to take that step. (Matthew 14:22-33)

When you hear that tiny whisper or that one word from God, you will know. And despite the fear and doubt and loneliness that come with stepping out of the boat, you can do it. And you will be better and healthier and happier for it.

I’ve had to do it. 

More than once. It's not easy. 

For me, it is rarely a peaceful decision followed by a graceful movement into newness of life. No, for me, it's usually days of endless tears, when I'm unable to leave the house. Friends can't help me. Family can't rescue me. Doctors can't fix me. That kind of storm doesn't rage out in the open world where others can see. No, it quietly claws and batters you from the inside.

I have to be alone with God, the only One who can save me. I spend days in complete silence with my Bible, Rosary, and boxes of tissues. No communication with anyone except God. Staying until I hear that tiny whisper, even if it's not the answer I prefer.

Stepping out of the boat during such a storm takes a very large measure of faith and trust. It means stepping into darkness with no view of beyond. Veering off with no certainty of what lies ahead. Starting anew with no guarantee of success. Falling asleep with no assurance of tomorrow. Walking away with no promise of something better.

It's so incredibly difficult because even though the darkness, the path, the routine are hazardous and toxic, they're familiar. Familiarity can be mistaken for comfort or purpose. Somehow, even though it's incredibly hard to stay in our circumstances, we convince ourselves it's the best (or only) option.

Until you hear that tiny whisper.

Then you know it's time to get out of the boat. It's time to take Jesus' hand and walk across the water. That kind of faith and trust behaves like a mustard seed plant.

All my life, I've focused on the simplistic description of the mustard seed being the smallest of seeds that produces the largest of trees. As we heard last Saturday, Jesus says if we have faith the size of a mustard seed, we can move mountains. With that kind of faith, nothing will be impossible for us. (Matthew 17:20)

But recently, I read a reflection in Give Us This Day that taught me that when Jesus said that, His followers would have taken it as an invitation to have revolutionary faith. Tiny mustard seeds germinate quickly and sprout aggressively. They are unruly and invasive, dropping hundreds of new seeds and quickly taking over a garden or vineyard.

When our Faith responds to that tiny whisper with mustard seed faith, we have the fortitude to get out of the boat in the midst of a storm. As long as we keep our eyes and hearts turned toward Jesus, we will not drown. It's when we try to figure it all out ourselves, when we think we have to be in control, when we think we're stuck and have no choice but to stay in the boat...that's when we sink and fall farther away from Him.

Jesus doesn't want us to do it alone. He doesn't want us to drown.

He's our Savior. He wants to save us in the storm and after the storm.

We have to trust Him.

I know because He has saved me.

More than once.

Thank God, I'm growing in that kind of faith. It's settling into my core, giving me grace to listen for that tiny whisper and trust my Savior, Jesus Christ, in the next storm and all the next ones. My prayer is that you can, too.

Mustard seed faith can change the world.