How are you sleeping these days? Are you resting is blissful oblivion or are you laying awake for hours? Or something in between?

I’ve always had trouble sleeping, as long as I can remember. So, I’ve taken something to help me sleep since college in one form or another. Thankfully these days, just herbal supplements do the trick. I’m so grateful for the sleep I do get and how well my years of improving my “sleep hygiene” routines have worked for me. BUT, these days, even with all my tricks and supplements at higher doses than usual, I’m still not sleeping as soundly as I’d like. I’m not in a crisis. Everything is basically OK, but my body is telling me a different story about my sense of safety and calm. And these fires and the smoke is not helping.

And so I wonder about you. How is your sleep? How is your sense of safety and calm in your world these days?

It seems to me that we’re all more on edge than we’d like to be. First of all, just being human is hard. Having relationships or not having relationships, as the case may be, is hard. Managing the responsibilities of life is hard. Aging is hard. Growing up is hard. Helping others in their aging or growing up is hard. So, let us thank God there’s a lot of beauty and joy in our world, as well, right? But there are times that feel harder than others. We have our storms as individuals, but also as families, as communities, or as a country or world.

The gospel today about this storm comes right after the feeding of the (more than) 5,000 that we read and pondered last week. The disciples just got to witness and participate in a miracle of abundance, love, and compassion. They were just shown what God’s kingdom is like in the most dramatic way in the gospel of Matthew up to this point.

So, how do you imagine they would have been feeling getting into that boat? Probably amazing, right? They might have thought that with this Jesus dude providing bounty out of essentially nothing, they’ll be protected, forever safe from difficulty perhaps. They’ll never hunger again. Maybe they even thought they’d  never be afraid again.

Well, that didn’t last very long. This is the same day and here they are struggling to survive a tormenting, raging storm through the night into the wee hours before dawn, losing strength with every passing moment. When Jesus finally comes, he’s not immediately recognizable and doesn’t calm the waters right away, either. And yet, he tells them to not be afraid. Just like he told them to not worry about the lack of food on the shore with all the hungry people. Be not afraid with the storm still raging. Be not afraid.

God does not always provide smooth sailing. Ease and comfort are not part of God’s steadfast love and provision. God promises a lot of things in love for us, but not easy living.

So, how are the waters for you right now? Are you finding yourself in a punishing storm in your life? Or are the waters beautifully calm? Or are you like me, who is struggling to sleep deeply or well because of an unsettled feeling of so many things in the world feeling off kilter? Are you unnerved about fires, smoke, loss, or worries about our world, our country, our community?

My prayer these days, that has been in my head a bit like a mantra is, “Let your will be my will, your love be my love, and your peace be my peace.” But after sitting with this text this week, I’m adding this to my litany, “Let your assurance be my assurance.”

Just imagine this scene of dramatic waves that are threatening to kill these men in the middle of the night. And then here comes Jesus, so untroubled by the storm they think he might be a ghost. How can someone be so assured in a storm like that?! Certainly not me and likely not you, right?

When Jesus arrives and Peter is pretty sure it’s him, he decides to put his faith in Jesus. Again, he just witnessed this miraculous feast and Peter, as usual, is a good sport. So, he steps out of the boat and actually does OK for a moment, but then into the water he goes in the middle of the storm. Thankfully it’s not all up to him to save himself and indeed, all is well.

I love my current my current mantra of asking Jesus for his will, peace, love, and assurance to be mine, also. This prayer does make me feel better, but I’m under no illusion that I will start walking around like Jesus on the water in all the wild storms of my life. I fully expect to be Peter, because I too am a good sport. I’m going to try, but I’m human like anyone else and so I too will sink without Jesus’ help on the hard days or even the strange days where the anxiety of this world colors everything just as the smoke colors everything.

I included the Apostle’s Creed this Sunday, even though we don’t say the Creeds very often. I did so because of the fires, because of the wars, because of the difficulties that I know are raging in some of our lives in this congregation and community. There is indeed something important about standing and saying together, “I believe in God…” and “I believe in Jesus Christ…” After all, Paul tells us that we won’t call out to the one who can save us in our need if we don’t first believe.

That said, the creeds can be awkward for folks because it sounds so definitive, as if our faith has to be definitive to be powerful. It doesn’t. Paul’s imperfect faith and understanding is sufficient. Plenty of folks don’t know exactly what they think about the virgin birth, for example, and that’s OK. The power of the creeds for me is that Christians have been standing and saying these words of affirmation that God exists, loves us, and saves us through Christ for centuries. These are words with power to remind us as we say them and hear them coming out of our own mouths that we believe in God. And if we do, then let us cry out in our storms, ask for help, and believe or know that God’s help will come. 

All of us learn the most about life, how to live, and about God’s kingdom through our struggles. When we need help the most is when we witness miracles because we need them. However, sometimes when we need help the most is when we are the least likely to say anything to each other or to Jesus. So even though Peter seems to be messing up as usual, bless his heart, he’s just being human, having a hard time, and then beautifully and wonderfully, he calls out for help.

If you’re finding it hard to really believe in God today, to believe that there is a world of Spirit and love that is larger and more real than our world and our storms today, then the Creed might feel awkward in your mouth. But you will be standing with people who have come through storms, who have come through times of suffering, with stories to tell about God’s provision and grace. These people today will stand around you and say the Creed with enough assurance for us all, because they have lived through the storms when they were lifted out of the water, too.

So, for those who don’t see how God is going to save you from your storms today, allow their assurance be your assurance. That is what a community of faith is about. Together we believe in God’s promises and Jesus’ peace in the storms of this world and our lives, even as we may feel that we’re sinking. The truth is we are never alone in any of this, ever.

There are storms around us. Storms of fire, climate change, war, and all the rest. And so we pray, watch, love, get involved, and then pray some more. I know that God’s presence gives us the power and ability to be the calm in the storm, not because of us, but because of God in us, acting through us for the sake of us all. This is the promise of God for us all in Christ our Lord.

AMEN