The Storm

The Storm

How wonderful to witness that day on the boat,

When Christ silenced dashing waves to keep afloat.

But I do wonder did not Satan use that inclement weather,

To try and somehow quench the Lord’s prophesied power?

And did not His anointed disciples,

Who knew and feared these waters hidden danger,

Later shake and cry with a newfound fear?

Sometimes, our own life can be likened to an assault,

Where dreams and desires never seem to reach a happy result.

Oh, and yes, aren’t we always yearning,

And searching?

Once on that storm-tossed morning in the storm,

Those disciples sat dejected, wet and abandoned,

Or so they thought, yet did not the Lord spare then from all harm?

So never again would they be frightened or entangled.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he remarked,

For thee is mine,

And mine is thine.

He could well have promised and remarked.

That morning in the Storm.

I wrote this short stanza with the events that those Hurricanes Katrina and Rita had left upon the shores of the American coast.

Mercifully casualties were low-this time-maybe, not so next time! We can only hope that those who perished repented and were saved!


October 2005

(All Rights Reserved)