It Still Holds
It Still Holds
A few weeks ago, I heard someone speaking on the account in Mark 4. It was an account that I had heard many times, yet there was something new this time. Jesus had just finished a long day of teaching a multitude of people. When evening came, Jesus and the disciples got into a boat, heading to the other side of the sea. Jesus was sleeping in the boat when suddenly the disciples found themselves in the midst of an incredible storm. As experienced fishermen, these waters were common to the disciples. They knew storms came suddenly in this area. This is why the disciple's response to this storm is so interesting to me. They woke Jesus out of his sleep and exclaimed “Jesus, don’t you care that we are about to drown?!” As I pause and think about this response…I've come to realize it wasn’t the storm that surprised the disciples that day. Rather, the fact that with Jesus in their boat… a storm still came.
In the fall of 2018, I was living life to the fullest—Loving Jesus, doing full-time ministry, PR travels, pulpit supply, and had picked up my teenage hobby of running. Life was truly amazing! Sure, there were stressful times, but a pair of running shoes, a local running trail, and miles of running with Jesus made a world of difference. I came to cherish those times (for much more than “runners high”). Those miles represented a lot of ground that Jesus had covered with me as we talked and ran together. Hundreds of miles and over 20 races in two years…life was beautiful. I had my plans for 2020- a perfect lineup of races, a summer of PR travels, and a full fall to train and run my first marathon.
Then Covid hit… The races were canceled but that didn’t stop me. The hours at the trail were therapeutic for me, both physically and spiritually. However, at the end of 2020, I began to notice that I was losing my love for running. I hurt…more than the usual pains of a runner. It took me much longer to recover from my long runs. I was losing speed. I felt a deepening depression coming over me, and my mind felt fogged most of the time. Soon the pain was too much and I had to stop running altogether. A nurse friend suggested that I needed to get some blood work done…all clear. The doctor said, “It’s depression, take these and you will be fine.” I did sleep better with the pills but nothing else changed.
Someone suggested I seek out a Lyme specialist…just to rule out that possibility. In the end of Summer 2021 the results came back and sure enough, chronic Lyme. The best they could tell was that my body had been fighting it since I was very young. Suddenly, a lot of things fell into place. A heart condition, joint pain, and mild depression as a young teen… all pointed to this. Unfortunately, my body had been fighting it for years, and as happens, a number of coinfections and now autoimmune issues were the end result.
I had come off the road from work travels at the end of summer—and my body was done fighting. What followed was almost two months of being bedridden, a cane to get around on the good days, and a daily pill bottle …that became my life. I remember many days lying in bed not knowing what was going on around me. My head was too fogged to even read a bible or try to pray…much less form words to hold a conversation. Where was God in this moment? The pain pulsing in my joints made even walking in my house a task that completely wore me out. A good day—well, that was when I could work for maybe 3 hours. I didn’t understand this storm. I could be doing so much for God. I could be back on the road, I could be filling pulpits again; but I couldn’t. That was my storm.
About a year and a half have passed since those days. Thanks to God, friends, family, a good doctor, and more treatment than I care to remember, I am definitely on the road to a new normal. There were many lessons I learned in this storm. However, one lesson stands out above the rest… The anchor holds! It was during those times in my life that I experienced Jesus in deeper ways than I ever could have on the running trail. When I couldn’t read the bible and when I didn’t remember how to pray, and when there was no sense of direction…there was an anchor, deep within that was steadfast and sure.
You see, I believe this was the lesson that Jesus wanted to teach his disciples that day in Mark 4. Having Jesus on board didn’t guarantee smooth sailing. Rather, they had an anchor in the middle of the storms.
I’m still in that storm. The waves are not as high and the winds have calmed down some; and most importantly, the anchor is still holding. Even today, when the storm seems too much for my boat and I wonder how much longer it will last—I simply reach out and give the anchor a little tug. It replies with “I Still Hold”.
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