Sign that says: Fear Not I am the one that helps you

Vital Sign

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Vital Sign

 

The LORD will give you a sign. – Isaiah 38:7 (GNT)

 

It was a September Sunday morning at 2 a.m. when I descended the hospital elevator and stepped out through sliding glass doors. Walking to the nearby corner, I bought coffee at the 24-hour convenience store. The warm cup soothed my palm as I continued around the block, taking comforting sips of the hot liquid. It seemed surreal that only a week ago Dad had been living his full, active life.

A woman stood on the opposite sidewalk tossing pebbles up against a second story window, trying to awaken the sleeper inside.There was a sleeper inside of me resisting all this change. What was I going to do with Mom and how could I manage everything on top of my own full life? I told Dad years ago that if he went first, I’d keep Mom at home where she was comfortable. But was that truly possible?

I rounded the corner and started up Main Street, lined with silent boutiques and artisan coffee shops. Suddenly ahead of me appeared a sign, brightly lit. In bold black letters were the words, FEAR NOT, I AM THE ONE WHO HELPS YOU. Was I dreaming, seeing this sign in the middle of the night? No doubt it was a message from God that He saw me and would help in the coming days. I took a picture, found courage in the moment, and headed back towards the hospital.

Thank you, Lord, for giving us signs–especially in times of desperate need. 

Reflect: What signs of encouragement has the Lord given you along your caregiving road?  Keep a watch this week for evidence of his loving care.

 

The above selection is Entry #8 in Part I: Unexpected Fall of Minding Mom: A Caregiver’s Devotional Story by Lisa Livezey (© 2024, En Route Books and Media)

Minding Mom: A Caregiver’s Devotional Story by Lisa Livezey | En Route Books and Media

Cup of Tears, Cup of Joy

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Cup of Tears, Cup of Joy

 

Twelve years ago, I was in the hospital, recovering from an atypical total knee replacement, and feeling sorry for myself because I didn’t make it to the bathroom in time. My tears could have filled a cup, even though I was in a comfortable room, getting great medical care, and had plenty to eat and drink. What did I have to cry about? The pain? The dependency on others? The embarrassment?

When I caught sight of the TV screen just inches away from the crucifix, I stopped crying: I watched a commercial with an emaciated woman clinging to her skeleton-like baby as she reached forward with an old tin cup in her hand. Dehydrated and dying, this woman was holding out hope and joy that her cup would be filled with milk for her child.  

Fast-forward to a month ago when I joined my cousins in one of many shanty towns in Cebu, Philippines, to distribute school supplies, clothing, and treats for the children. As we navigated leaving along the narrow pathway, I spotted a little girl with toothpick limbs as she stopped to drizzle water over her bare feet from a makeshift spigot before she entered one of the shacks. She smiled amid the stench and garbage, happily holding her “gifts.”

As I think of Christ on the Crucifix and the suffering He endured out of love for each of us, I remember the joy of a fragile mother and an impoverished child and feel somewhat ashamed of the tears I shed over so many seemingly trivial trials. God gets me, and I am consoled by the Psalmist’s conviction:

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” —Psalm 147:3

My prayer is to cultivate the strength to give up my cup of privileged tears and replace them with a cup full of joy and gratitude taught by a mother and a young child. As the new year progresses, may your cup of tears be filled also with hope, joy, and gratitude.

“…weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” —Psalm 30:5

© Paula Veloso Babadi 2025

Edited by Gabriella Batel

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When she is not playing pickleball or “Nana,” Paula Veloso Babadi cooks, gardens, and writes poetry and short personal essays. You can find her first book-length collection, Everywhere Hope, on Amazon.

Announcing Alzheimer’s

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Announcing Alzheimer’s

By Lisa Livezey

Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what any day may bring forth.

– Proverbs 27:1 (NAB)

I stopped by my parents’ split-level suburban home for a quick visit and Mom met me at the door. “Lisa, I have ALZHEIMERS!!!!” she pronounced with angst. Dad stood in the background smiling tenderly.

The news was no surprise. In fact, Mom had announced her diagnosis to me three times already.

In a flash moment, I considered Mom’s exemplary life. She was a faithful wife, mother and grandmother, a registered nurse, volunteer librarian, had taken in foster children, kept an immaculate, organized home, and even led Bible studies.  She doted on her grandchildren, who hold happy memories of time spent at “Gigi and Pop’s” house along with weekends camping in the mountains.

Now at age 82, Mom was descending from the mountains and gazing despairingly upon the wilderness of Alzheimer’s disease.  For one so capable, no doubt the future appeared bleak and scary.

Giving her a hug, I said, “Don’t worry, Mom. It’ll be okay.”  Surely God would provide the daily help she needed, just as He had during her more productive years.

I knew Mom was in good hands with Dad’s stabilizing presence beside her. He capably handled Mom’s health issues and certainly would be her continued comfort and guide amidst the changing landscape of her brain.

Lord, Thank you for today. I know not what tomorrow holds, so help me to trust You with the future.

Reflect: Think about loved ones in your life who are experiencing change due to age or illness and offer up a prayer for each one.

 

The author’s parents, Christmas 2016, six months
before “Announcing Alzheimer’s” took place

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The above blog piece is the Prologue in Minding Mom: A Caregiver’s Devotional Story by Lisa Livezey (© 2024, En Route Books and Media)

Minding Mom: A Caregiver’s Devotional Story by Lisa Livezey | En Route Books and Media

Listen to the audio version of “Announcing Alzheiemer’s” read by the author.

 

Copyright 2025 Lisa Livezey

The Power of a Smile

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The Power of a Smile

When my kiddos were young, the local YMCA was a saving grace. My four daughters, ages four and under, loved playing in the childcare area almost as much as I loved a chance to pee uninterrupted. My mom-friends also belonged to the Y, so it was as much a playdate for me as it was for the kids.

At the YMCA, I learned that I do actually enjoy working out when it’s not a mandatory school class. I took various group classes that met my social needs and allowed me to try new exercises with no pressure or obligation. I remember especially fondly that if it weren’t for the YMCA, I may not have showered at all when my husband traveled for work. My twins are cute, but I couldn’t take my eyes off them for a minute!

Naturally, when I learned that my husband’s job was moving us to a new state, one of the first things I searched for was if our new town had a YMCA. To my great relief, it did. I’m fairly sure the girls and I trekked over there to become members on our second day there.

But everything was wrong with the new Y. My kids were scared of the new childcare area because they didn’t know the staff yet. They didn’t offer my favorite exercise classes. The cardio room was separate from the weights room, and both felt cramped: the building was regularly crowded, and my preferred machines weren’t available; I had to sign up for a turn on the cardio equipment and could only do thirty minutes at a time.

The worst part was how unfriendly everyone was, from the staff to my fellow patrons. I didn’t know anyone, and no one talked to me. Aside from a quick greeting as I dropped off my kids in the childcare area, I wouldn’t speak to a single person. I distinctly remember feeling profoundly alone while surrounded by people. They just weren’t my people.

One day, while I moped around the YMCA, bemoaning how I didn’t have any friends or even get a friendly smile, I realized the fault was mine. I recognized that from the moment I put the car in park, I hung my head and only looked at the ground. It was no wonder no one ever smiled at me. I didn’t give a single person I passed the opportunity.

At that moment, something changed in me. I decided to not be the reason for my own misery. I decided to lift my head, look everyone I passed in the eye, and smile. The most amazing thing happened: people smiled back.

I felt less alone from that day forward, not because I immediately made friends (which, I’m sad to report, didn’t happen overnight) but because I was connecting with other human beings. God created us in His image and likeness, and He created us for relationships. We aren’t meant to go through this life alone.

I learned some valuable lessons from that experience, the most notable being that I am responsible for my behavior. I can’t begrudge the unfriendliness of others when I don’t make the effort myself; something as small and simple as a smile can make a huge difference.

When I walk around looking people in the eyes and smiling, my soul is transformed. Even if I’m struggling and my life isn’t as simple and easy as I’d like, when I smile, I allow the joy that Christ offers to penetrate into my heart. What’s more, my smile is returned more often than not with a smile from a stranger’s face, further filling my soul with happiness.

These days, I don’t have to think about it: I’m always smiling. I love looking at other people and greeting them warmly. Each person I pass is a fellow creation of God, and I am blessed to be in her or his company. My kids often comment on how friendly I am—I get a chance to remind them that every person we pass has dignity and worth, regardless of her or his outward appearance. In this small, simple way, I get to share Christ’s joy with others.

If you’re feeling down or isolated, the most powerful tool you have requires only a few muscles in your face. It’s guaranteed to make you feel better, and chances are, your joy will spill into the strangers you pass. All you have to do is smile.

©Maria Riley 2024

God’s Christmas Wish

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God’s Christmas Wish

Finding myself deep in the throes of holiday madness recently, a short phrase spoken by a house guest caused me to stop and think about where my focus is this Christmas Season.

“We want as much as we can get. All dogs want are the crumbs.”

Among the busyness that comes with the holidays are many suggestions for the gift-giving season. As a child, I recall giving my parents my gift wishes in not-so-subtle ways. I circled toys in catalogs and newspaper ads, as a blatant way of letting them know all I hoped for that Christmas. I have lovely memories of how my children voiced their wish lists, and I am enjoying how creativity is growing with each new generation.

Fixing our eyes on the birth of Christ becomes complicated when the commercialization of Christmas is all around us. Somewhere, at some point, there needs to be a balance. After all, God gave us the best Christmas gift ever, and doing the same for our families is good. Keeping our hearts aligned with God in the process is even better.

I never imagined such a profound statement coming from giving our dog apple pie crumbs. The truth in those words echoes in my heart days later. At this time of year especially, we do want as much as we can get, and if you think about it, the little dog considers the crumbs a full-course meal. I don’t think I will ever look at a piece of apple pie the same, and if my little dog plays her cards right, she may end up with a whole slice!

What would this look like if we flipped the circumstances just a little? Would crumbs be enough in everything we pray for or desire from God? If God’s will for our lives is not to receive the wish list in our minds but to receive only a portion, can we be as content as the dog receiving scraps? Taking it even one step further, let’s imagine that we are holding the meal, and God is patiently waiting for us to give Him a portion—how much are you willing to give God? Are you offering only crumbs or the entire piece?

A relationship with God requires opening your heart and giving God your time and energy. We put forth all of these things to the multitudes during the holidays. I never think twice about making time for shopping, baking cookies, and attending holiday gatherings. However, there are times when my prayer life suffers amidst the holiday madness. Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ, God’s one and only Son, given to us as a gift. It is a beautiful gift for you and me to offer our time, energy, and focus to the God who gave us life.

So how do we find that balance, the sweet spot where we can check off the holiday to-do list while staying true to our commitment to the intimacy of prayer? The obvious would be to put God first. This is easier said than done when our minds focus on everything else. Perhaps a written wish list between you and God might do the trick. Consider what God might wish for you, and then offer your requests prayerfully each day. Actions such as these will help to keep your heart and mind focused on involving God in the holiday preparations.

As you wrap presents and tie beautiful bows this holiday season, offer a prayer or two for God’s children who are happy and content with what little they have. Pray for the desire and grace to be satisfied with what God has given you, and perhaps drop a crumb or two to the little dog waiting at your side; God is right there with them.

Copyright 2023 text and dog photo: Kimberly Novak
Other Images: Canva

 

Navigating through darkness to the Season of Light

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Navigating through darkness to the Season of Light

My peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.
—John 14:27

The Lord spoke these words to disciples before the crucifixion. By the end of the discourse, it would be understandable that their anxiety was rising. He concluded: “I have told you this so that you might have peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world” (John 17:33). He knew what the earthly powers planned for them as his followers, and they needed to be reminded that no matter what the world dished out, his was not simply a better way, but the best way. He also sent this message before his birth. In reflecting upon the readings throughout Advent, we can quell the turbulent stirrings rousted during the holidays.

Living in the world is a hard contact sport, and only a fool would play a rough game without proper conditioning and back-up. Yet so many go through life without the support that faith gives. Our society has record numbers of people living with anxiety and depression, and plummeting numbers in church attendance and religious affiliation. The culture is identified by the disturbingly accepted phrase, “post-Christian society.”

Even believers can be shadowed by the unrest that balloons during the Advent and Christmas seasons. The constant pressure to spend, eat, socialize, and “be of good cheer” causes angst for many, even those who enjoy the hustle and bustle. The Devil, that slobbering, panting mongrel of darkness, dispatches four of his best henchmen to squeeze the vulnerable. These days, that applies to most of us. Anxiety, Panic, Fear, and Depression are among his supreme lieutenants because they are excellent collaborators of opportunism. He recruits limitless holiday help to brew botheration through the urgent and endless “best sale of the year” deals, the “get it or forget it” Christmas lists, and social engagements (or lack thereof).

For others, the season stirs up grief over deep loss. The reasons for the unease outnumber the people experiencing them. The pace of keeping up with the season triggers everything from dread to disappointment to despondency. It’s enough to make Santa’s elves want the holiday season to be done. How sad to want such a beloved and beautiful time—Advent and Christmas—to be over with a big sigh of relief. For the beast of the underworld, it’s pure delight, like fresh, bloody meat.

Scripture is always the balm for sufferings of the world, but the readings this Advent—including those from morning and evening prayer and daily Mass—penetrate the fog that can become ever so dense. We began Advent with the command to “watch.” Listen also to the messages of the season. Perhaps commit to memory a passage to push out the anxiety whenever it begins to bubble. “I will listen for what God, the Lord has to say; surely he will speak of peace to his people and the faithful” (Psalm 85:9).

During Advent, we encounter the faceless and the nameless that Jesus healed, proving that God sees us all—no matter how invisible we may feel—and wants to make us whole. “Great crowds came to him, having with them the lame, the blind, and many others. They placed them at his feet, and he cured them” (Matthew 15:30). Matthew recounts in 9:36: “At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” He even healed those not physically present as we hear the centurion’s pleas for his suffering, paralyzed servant (cf. Matthew 8:5-13).

We meet people this month who, with great trials, embraced the rays of the Son. December 13 is the feast of the fourth century martyr, St. Lucy, whose name means light. She chose a hideous torture that blinded her because she would not betray her Savior. Isaiah 40:29 fortifies us: “He gives power to the faint, abundant strength to the weak.” The following day, December 14, we remember St. John of the Cross who, more than five centuries later, continues to enlighten with his Dark Night of the Soul.

The Advent readings are a treasury of fortitude to battle distress: “… you shall no longer weep; He will be most gracious to you when you cry out; as soon as he hears, he will answer you” (Isaiah 30:19). And others: Psalm 121:5, 7-8; Isaiah 25:8; Wisdom 18:14-16; Song of Songs 2:10-11 to name a few. Throughout Advent, God sends us messages of hope and encouragement. We are assured in Philippians 4:6-7: “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Peace be with you.

Copyright 2023 Mary McWilliams

Feature Image by Rúben Gál from Pixabay
Image by Ri Butov from Pixabay

Will You Pray for Me?

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Will You Pray for Me?

To be one of the best at what you do is very good. No . . . check that . . . it is GREAT! And it can be devastating when that’s taken from you.

Once, there was a performer who worked on the world stage. He sang and acted in some of the best theaters on the globe. Europe, the Americas, China . . . he would jet from city to city and country to country.

One day, at a dental visit, he found out he had life-threatening cancer. He and his family’s lives were about to change. First, his career was over; the treatment he would go through would be drastic. He would have a large part of an organ removed and reconstructive surgery over 12 hours. Then, he would undergo very large doses of chemo and over a month’s worth of daily pin-point radiation. As his oncologist put it, “We are going to take you to the brink of death—actually, just past—to kill the cancer, then help you to come back. But I’m not going to lie: you’re going to go through hell. It’ll be up to you and God to come out the other side.”

How would you react to a situation like this?

Well, he stopped everything and called friends, family, and organizations he was in—giving them the news. Then, he did something that had the greatest effect. He asked for prayers. He knew that he wouldn’t have the strength, endurance, or ability to make it through without.

The surgery happened, the chemo happened, and the radiation began. There were many, many hiccups along the way. A feeding tube became dislodged; a trach-tube reinsert was botched, causing him to mentally pray as he was fading away to unconsciousness, “Into Your hands, I commend my spirit.”

He was burnt beyond belief. He was sleeping 18 hours a day, and . . . he was ready to give up. With six excruciating days of radiation to go, he mentally said, “That’s it. I’m done. Lord, I can’t pray for myself anymore. I’ll pray for others, but I’m done. Do with me what you want.”

That’s when it happened. As soon as his heart and mind fully realized what he’d prayed, all the weight was lifted. He had an actual feeling of being “lifted.” To many people, the phrase “lifted in prayer” is just an old cliché. But to him, it was very real, physical, visceral. He could feel the prayers from friends, family, parishes, abbeys, monasteries, and convents from around the world—literally lifting him up! He still felt every open sore, every burn mark, every blister. But he was now able to bear it all—with a smile.

As his case progressed, doctors—not two or three but five—all declared they had never seen anything like his progress. They declared (in his file), “something supernatural . . . it’s a miracle.” It all came down to giving over to prayer. Not just any prayer but prayer from others, specifically intercessory prayer.

Fast forward: Today is day 1497 since I had over ½ of my tongue removed and a part of my wrist put in its place. In the four years and one month since my surgery, I have sung the Ave Maria in the Grotto at Lourdes, France, twice. I’ve had three award-winning books published by a great publishing house, and I’ve restarted my path in the Permanent Diaconate in the Kansas City–St. Joseph Diocese.

I now KNOW, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the effects of prayer … are real.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

A Move Yet Still Home

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A Move Yet Still Home

Last spring, I moved with my family to Kansas, which is my ninth lifetime state (I also studied abroad and lived in London for four months, so if you count that, I’m in the double digits). Only recently did I begin to appreciate the blessing that being Catholic truly is.

Like most cradle Catholics, I’ve always had God in my life. Growing up, weekly Mass and CCD were omnipresent. As we’ve grown our own family, those same traditions have persisted. Regardless which state or city we moved to, a Catholic parish and the True Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist was always available.

Prior to this move, we lived in Florida, and our parish there was something special. Not only were we close enough to walk or bike ride to Mass, but that parish felt alive in a special way. The list of ministries was lengthy, and there were always events or service projects we could be a part of. I volunteered with faith formation, participated in the moms’ ministry, Walking with Purpose, and Bible study. There were monthly socials after a daily Mass, quarterly family events after the Youth and Family Mass (where kids served as ushers and lectors), and no shortage of friendly conversations in the parking lot. To say we loved this family-friendly parish would be an understatement.

When the news came that we were moving to Kansas for my husband’s new job, my heart sank knowing we had to leave our parish. It really had become a second home for us. I knew we wouldn’t find a parish like that in Kansas. I had lived in seven other states in my life, and that parish is unique.

My husband and I traveled to Kansas for a weekend to get to know the area and do some house hunting, and we visited the local Catholic Church for Sunday Mass. My heart was hardened before I walked into the sanctuary. I simply knew it wouldn’t be as good as our old parish.

I looked around and proceeded to judge everything. The tabernacle wasn’t prominent enough. The crucifix was too small. The choir performed instead of inviting us to participate. The priest was old and unenthusiastic. Everything I saw I disliked, and I wanted to be back in Florida.

Then the homily began. I don’t remember the readings for that Sunday, nor do I remember the beginning of the homily. What I do know is that God spoke directly to me that day through his faithful servant’s words.

He reminded us that we don’t come to Mass every week because of the priest or the social time. We come because Jesus meets us here, body, blood, soul, and divinity in the Eucharist. No matter which church we are in, he comes to us there.

Bam. My hardened heart softened. I was struck, and instantly humbled at my own arrogance and pride. Tears flowed down my face as I really let Jesus into my heart. Jesus reminded me that I’m there for him. Not the priest, not the building, and not the socialization. It doesn’t matter which parish I belong to, because Jesus is there for me, and I come to meet him. That’s all that matters.

I looked back on all the states and all the parishes and finally fully appreciated the gift I have in the Catholic Church. While I do still miss my old friends and the community of the parish in Florida, my heart remains grateful for his presence that I’m able to receive, regardless of where I live.

Maria Riley 2023

The Power of a Heartfelt Prayer

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The Power of a Heartfelt Prayer

As a spiritual director, I know the power a prayer can harness.  All types of prayer, ranging from prayers of the heart, spontaneous prayers, and those prayed over a group, when prayed with a heart of faith, pack the same punch.

Shortly after becoming a spiritual director, a woman diagnosed with a terminal illness reached out for assistance. At the time, she wanted to rekindle her walk with God and face the imminent future with a heart of faith. During the looming diagnosis, we talked about her relationship with God through the years and how important it was at this particular time. Our sessions were sometimes difficult for both of us, especially as the diagnosis timeframe was ticking away. When we first met, I wondered why God had given me such a difficult assignment so quickly after graduation. I didn’t feel confident enough in what I was doing. However, I was more than willing to allow the Spirit to take over all of my senses in the hopes of being guided. When the words became difficult, we prayed silently in the company of one another. On days when panic, fear, and anger were present, we went against one of the rules of how a spiritual director should behave, and allowed the occasional hug to comfort us both.

In preparation for one of our sessions, I began to write a prayer specifically for this woman. I intended to share it with some prayer warriors and give a copy to the woman so she could share it with friends, family, and those at church. To write this prayer, I researched other prayers that contained scripture for healing and miracles.  Once I had a handful of ideas, I placed them all together and moved them around until I felt like I had the perfect structure. On the first read-through, the prayer felt right. It flowed gently and got right to the point.

I wanted to help this woman in any way I could, and being a strong proponent that you can pray away anything in life, I was determined to do just that. After all, I had nothing to lose and the power of God’s love to gain.

Not long after I presented the prayer and began lifting the need daily to God, I received a note that her recent tests showed all evidence of the illness gone. I firmly believe that the power in this prayer offered in true faith “prayed away” the sickness. I offered gratitude to our Heavenly Physician and tucked the prayer into my bible for safekeeping.

Years passed before another situation surfaced, requiring powerful prayer for a friend’s spouse. I shared the prayer with the family and began praying daily. It was not two weeks before I received news that the fatal diagnosis was an error. Perhaps, aligned with God’s Will, we prayed it away.

In more recent months, a family member received news of an illness and without hesitation, I began the healing prayer.

As I reflected on these instances, I wondered why I was keeping this powerful prayer a secret all this time. I had offered it to those involved who needed the healing work of our Father, but past that, the prayer remained in my bible. Today, I know in my heart that the prayer was written with the leading of the Spirit, and I am called to share it with as many as I can.
I offer this healing prayer so you can enlist your prayer army and in the hopes of aligning with God’s Will, pray away the difficulties life sometimes dishes out. As you pray, replace N. with the name of the person for whom you are praying.

God’s word says the prayer of faith shall heal the sick. I come to you, God, in faith and ask that You heal N. from sickness. Jesus, I want Your word to penetrate the depths of ­­­­N.’s heart. Thank you that Your word brings life and healing to ­­­­N.’s whole body. Jesus, I ask that you open N. up today to Your blessings, healing, and miracles. Let all worries leave his/her heart. I know you are a God who cares, who loves N. deeply, and will never let him/her go.  In Jesus’ name, I pray, Amen.

Copyright 2023 Kimberly Novak
Images: Canva

Fall into Pieces or Peace in a Storm?

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Fall into Pieces or Peace in a Storm?

When you face the storms of life, which do you cling to—pieces or peace? We’re all going to face adversity—life’s storms and earthquakes: illness, being “the other,” not fitting in… But how are you going to react? Fall to pieces? Or slide into peace?

Two stories come to mind.

Elijah was on the run. He’d wiped out all the false prophets of Jezebel, the queen of the land, and she was out for blood—his blood. Elijah realized he was doomed and ran for the desert. No one on earth could save him, so he laid down and prayed for death.

Fast forward.

Forty days later, Elijah was in a cave when God asked him, “What are you doing here? Go stand on the mountain [don’t hide in a cave] and watch me pass by.” Elijah saw all the worst things of life go by: wind, tornadoes, lightning, storms, earthquakes, fires. But God wasn’t in them. No. It wasn’t until Elijah heard the quiet, peace-filled, almost inner whisper and focused on it, that he realized he was in the presence of God.

Jump to the New Testament and Jesus walking on water. Jesus had faced a very long day. He had preached to thousands, fed them with only five loaves and two fish, healed them, expelled demons, and was pooped by the end of it! He sent his followers across the water to the next port of call while he recharged his batteries by praying alone. The disciples, like Elijah, grumpily faced great winds, storms, and lightning. Then, they saw Jesus, as if a ghost, walking perfectly calm on the water toward them, saying, “Don’t be afraid.”

Peter, pure reactionist, challenges Jesus and asks to join Him. Jesus calmly says, “Come.” Peter, now focused on Jesus, does exactly that. He hops out of the boat, not thinking, just reacting to Jesus’s call, and begins to walk on the water. When Peter’s focus on Jesus wanes, the storm, the lightning, the wind, and the inconceivable fact that he was walking on water overtake Peter, and he begins to sink back into his perceived reality, the crashing waves of unimportant things.

These stories are perfect for you and me today! What wind, storms, lightning, earthquakes, and fires do we face every day? Deadlines, family drama, self-made situations that eat our brains and spirits? People who “have it in for us.” Knowing “I should do this and that, but I just don’t feel like it.” Noticing a lump, discoloration on your skin, or little aches and pains you didn’t have before. These are the things we allow to take away our focus on what’s important. Listening to God’s whisper, listening to Jesus’s “Come.”

What did Elijah and Jesus do? They found time alone. They took time to pray, be quiet, and be alone with God. What did God do? He replied, “Be not afraid. I’m here. I got you. Now get outta the boat, focus on me… and walk on water!”

So, what will you choose? To fall to pieces or to find peace? The choice is yours.

Copyright 2023 Ben Bongers

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