Author: Kelly Skelton

If there is one thing life has taught me, it is that things can change in an instant.

You can wake up believing you know what the day will bring, only to receive a phone call that changes everything. You can feel secure in a relationship, a job, or a plan for the future, and then suddenly find yourself facing uncertainty.

Life does not always give us time to prepare our hearts for what comes next.

And when the unexpected happens, our first instinct often reveals something important about what we depend on.

Do we immediately panic? Do we start trying to control every detail? Do we replay every possible outcome in our minds until we are exhausted?

Or do we pause long enough to remember that we aren’t facing this moment alone?

I ask myself these questions because I know how easy it is to become overwhelmed. I begin trying to solve tomorrow’s problems with today’s strength. I imagine the worst possible outcome and begin carrying the emotional weight of something that has not even happened.

Maybe you know that feeling, too.

The story of Jesus calming the storm gives us an opportunity to consider how we might respond differently the next time life takes an unexpected turn.

Notice that Jesus didn’t ask the disciples to calm the storm themselves. They could not command the wind to stop or the waves to settle. They had reached the limits of their own control, and they needed Him.

There are moments in our lives when we need to recognize that same truth.

We can take responsible action. We can seek wise counsel, make necessary decisions, and do what is within our power to do. But we cannot control every outcome or prevent every disappointment.

Maybe that’s one of the most meaningful lessons in this story. The disciples began the journey with Jesus, encountered a storm they could not manage, called out to Him in fear, and witnessed His power in a way they would never forget.

Their experience challenges us to examine our own hearts.

Let your past become a reminder of His faithfulness, your present become an opportunity to practice trust, and your future become something you place in His hands one day at a time.

I pray, as you close out your week, that you remember that you do not have to face unfamiliar waters in your own strength.

Prayer

Lord, when we find ourselves in the boat and the storms begin to rise, help us remember that we can call on You. Help us trust You with the journey, the timing, and the outcome. We may not know what tomorrow holds, but we can place tomorrow in Your hands.

The storm may be part of our story, but it does not have to define our faith.

After Jesus calmed the storm, the disciples asked a question that I find interesting.

“Who is this man?”

I wonder what was going through their minds. Hadn’t they already seen Him perform miracles? Hadn’t they witnessed His authority in other situations? Hadn’t they listened to His teaching and watched Him minister to people in need?

Why were they so amazed now?

I think the answer may be that there is a difference between knowing what someone can do and experiencing the full weight of who they are.

The disciples had seen Jesus work, but now they had watched Him command the wind and the water, and the storm obeyed Him. They were confronted with a power that reached far beyond anything they could fully comprehend.

They knew Jesus, but they were still discovering Him.

And isn’t that true for us?

We can spend years in church. We can read our Bibles, memorize Scripture, attend Bible studies, and talk about God’s goodness. We can tell stories of how He has worked in our lives and encourage other people to trust Him.

Yet there are moments when God reveals something about Himself in a way that makes our hearts pause.

Sometimes we discover His comfort in a season of grief. Sometimes we experience His provision when we cannot see how the bills will be paid. Sometimes we find strength to forgive someone who hurt us deeply. Sometimes, in a season when we thought we would fall apart, we discover a peace that we cannot explain.

Those experiences don’t mean we suddenly know everything about God. They deepen our understanding of the One we have been learning to trust all along.

I think about the difference between telling someone that God is a comforter and experiencing His comfort when your heart is broken. There is a difference between saying God is faithful and looking back over a difficult season, realizing that He sustained you through every single day.

We may enter a difficult season asking, “Lord, how am I going to get through this?” But after walking with Him through it, we may find ourselves asking a different question: “Lord, how could You be so faithful to me? How could You give me strength I didn’t have? How could You meet me in a place I thought I would have to face alone?”

We may not understand why every storm comes, but we can keep discovering the heart of Jesus through every season.

Prayer

Lord,

When we look back over difficult seasons, help us see not only what we endured but also how You sustained us. Remind us of the strength You supplied, the wisdom You gave, and the moments when Your peace met us in the middle of uncertainty.

May we never stop being amazed by Your love, Your power, Your mercy, and Your faithfulness. I pray that the things we learn in our own storms become a source of encouragement to someone else who is struggling.

This question Jesus asks the disciples makes me stop and examine my own heart.

“Where is your faith?”

I can almost imagine the scene. The waves are crashing against the boat. The wind is fierce. Water is filling in, and the disciples are terrified. They shake Jesus to wake Him, crying out for help because they believe they are about to die. And where is Jesus? Right there. In the boat with them.

He is not watching from the shore. He is not somewhere far away, unaware of their trouble. He is close enough for them to reach Him, close enough to hear their cries, close enough to stand and rebuke the wind and the raging water. He literally could not have been any closer, and still, they were afraid.

If I’m honest, I might have been afraid, too. It’s easy to read this story from the safety of our own homes, knowing how it ends. We know Jesus will calm the storm. We know the disciples will survive. But they didn’t have the benefit of reading the final verses while the water was rising around them. They were experiencing the danger in real time, and isn’t that how life often feels?

When we are in the middle of a difficult situation, we feel the pressure of the moment, and fear can become louder than everything we know about God.

I sometimes wonder how many times I’ve done the same thing as those disciples. I’ve known God’s promises. I’ve experienced His goodness. I’ve watched Him make a way before. Yet, when a new challenge appears, I sometimes start to worry like He has never helped me before.

Sometimes we believe in God and still feel anxious. Sometimes we pray and still cry. Sometimes we know that God is able, but we struggle to understand what He is doing.

The presence of fear does not automatically mean the absence of faith. What matters is where we turn when fear comes.

The disciples turned toward Jesus. They woke Him and called for help. Even in their panic, they brought their fear to Him. That gives me hope.

I don’t have to pretend that the storm isn’t frightening. I don’t have to silence every anxious thought. I can bring Jesus the trembling, uncertain, overwhelmed version of myself and ask Him to help me remember who He is.

Faith is not pretending the waves aren’t high. Faith is remembering that the waves are not greater than the One who is riding them out with you.

Prayer

Lord, sometimes we don’t understand ourselves. We know who You are. We know the ways You have provided, protected, strengthened, and comforted us. We can look back over our lives and see evidence of Your goodness. Yet, when another storm comes, we can find ourselves worrying as if we have forgotten everything You have ever done.

Forgive us for the moments when our fear becomes bigger in our minds than Your faithfulness. Help us remember that You are near, even when we can’t see how things will work out.

Sometimes God calls us into something familiar. We know the work, understand the expectations, and feel reasonably confident in our ability to handle what lies ahead. We’ve been there before. We know how to navigate the responsibilities, how to make the decisions, and how to keep things moving.

But then there are those other times.

The times when God seems to be leading us into unfamiliar territory. A new responsibility, a difficult conversation, a season of waiting, a change we didn’t ask for, or a challenge that feels bigger than anything we’ve faced before.

And if we’re honest, those are the moments when our confidence can begin to crumble.

The disciples were familiar with boats and lakes. Some of them were experienced fishermen. Yet, when the storm came, their experience wasn’t enough to keep them from becoming afraid.

If I’m being honest, I know what it feels like to enter a situation believing I can control it, only to discover that I absolutely am not in control. I know what it is like to have a plan that suddenly no longer works, to face a problem that can’t be solved with just a little more time and maybe a little more effort. And maybe that’s where God wants to meet us.

Sometimes He allows us to recognize the limits of our own abilities so that we can discover the sufficiency of His.

There is nothing wrong with being prepared. There is nothing wrong with using the gifts, wisdom, and experience God has given us. But we need to be careful not to confuse our ability to handle familiar circumstances with our ability to control every circumstance.

Faith does not require us to feel adequate for every assignment. It requires us to depend on the One who is adequate.

Think about the things you are facing right now. Maybe you’re stepping into a role you never imagined having, trying to rebuild something that has fallen apart, or learning how to live in a season that looks nothing like the one you planned.

You don’t have to pretend that you have it all together. You can take the next step with Jesus, even if your confidence hasn’t caught up with your calling.

The disciples launched the boat before they knew what the journey would bring. Sometimes, that’s what faith looks like for us, too.

Not having every answer. Not feeling completely ready. Just being willing to move forward with Jesus.

God does not always call us because we are capable of handling what lies ahead. Sometimes He calls us so we can learn to rely on Him in ways we never have before.

Maybe this is your prayer for today:

God, You know how much I like to feel prepared. You know how often I try to think through every possibility, anticipate every problem, and find a way to make everything work. You also know the moments when I feel completely inadequate, when the responsibility feels too heavy and the road ahead seems unfamiliar. Help me trust You in those moments.

Give me the courage to step into the places where You are calling me, even when I feel uncertain. Help me use the wisdom You have given me while remembering that my ultimate security comes from You, not from my own abilities.

Teach me to lean on You instead of allowing fear to keep me from stepping out into the boat.

I find comfort in the fact that the disciples were not out on that lake because they had made a poor decision. They weren’t wandering around, trying to figure out which direction to go. Jesus had told them what to do. He said, “Let’s cross this lake together.” And they followed Him.

Sometimes, I think we mistakenly believe that when we are walking in God’s will, everything should fall into place. We expect the road to be smooth, the decisions to be clear, and the journey to unfold without too many surprises. We think obedience should somehow protect us from the unexpected. But the disciples were obedient, and the storm still came.

Maybe you’ve experienced something similar. You prayed about a decision. You asked God to guide you. You did your best to follow His leading, and yet here you are, facing circumstances you never anticipated. Maybe a relationship became difficult, a door closed, a financial burden appeared, or someone you love began walking through a season of pain. And you find yourself asking, “Lord, I thought I was following You. Why is this so hard?”

I’ve learned that following Jesus doesn’t mean I will never encounter a storm. It means I don’t have to face the storm alone.

When Jesus invited the disciples to cross the lake, He knew the journey they were about to take. The wind that surprised them did not surprise Him. The waves that frightened them did not diminish His authority.

That is where my peace must begin—not in the belief that everything will go exactly as I planned, but in the confidence that Jesus is trustworthy even when it doesn’t go the way I thought it would.

When I look back at past experiences, I can identify moments when I thought I wouldn’t make it through. There were seasons when I couldn’t see a way forward, when my heart was heavy, and when the answers I wanted did not come as quickly as I hoped. Yet, somehow, by God’s grace, I made it through those moments. He sustained me, strengthened me, and carried me when I didn’t have the strength to carry myself.

I’m sure you can look back at moments in your life and say the same.

You may not have understood every twist and turn, but you can remember His faithfulness. You can remember the prayers He answered, the strength He supplied, and the moments when peace found you in the middle of uncertainty.

So today, as you step into whatever lies ahead, carry peace with you. Not because you know everything will be perfect, but because you know the One who goes with you.

You don’t have to know how the journey will unfold to trust the One who invited you on it.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for being faithful, even when life doesn’t unfold the way we expected. Thank You for every time You have carried us through a difficult season and for the strength You gave us when we felt weak. Help us remember that following You does not mean we will never face a storm. It means we can trust You in the middle of it.

Lydia’s story begins with a woman sitting beside a river, listening, and it ends with a woman opening her home. The real story lies in what happened in between: Jesus changed her life.

Because her faith became personal, her belief became public, and her influence was felt throughout. I truly believe this is what happens when we realize we were made for more.

And maybe today you need to hear this: Your life matters more than you realize.

The enemy would love for you to believe that your story is too ordinary—that you’re too old, too young, too busy, too broken, too inexperienced, or too imperfect. I pray you hear this loud and clear: God has never required perfection from us. He seeks surrendered hearts. Just like Lydia opened her home, she became part of the story of the early church.

Maybe you’ve spent years pouring into everyone else and have forgotten to let Jesus pour into you. Maybe you’ve been serving but not abiding. Maybe you’ve been teaching but haven’t allowed yourself to be taught. Maybe you’ve been quietly following Jesus but have never taken the courageous step of sharing your faith.

Today, I pray that you are reminded: You were made for more.

More than survival. More than people-pleasing. More than checking boxes. More than keeping your faith private. More than simply attending church.

You were made for relationships, purpose, and influence. You were made to know Jesus and to make Jesus known.

The same God who opened Lydia’s heart can open the hearts of the people you love. The same God who used Lydia’s home can use yours. The same God who took one woman’s faith and multiplied its influence can take your surrendered story and use it in ways you may never fully see.

You were made for more. And more begins with Jesus.

Today, as you close out your workweek, I pray that you would remember who you are and why you were created. I pray that you would know deep in your soul that you were made for more—not because you need to accomplish more, but because Jesus is inviting you into more of Him.

Lord, open our hearts the way You opened Lydia’s heart. Draw us into a deeper, more personal relationship with You. Teach us to listen for Your voice, trust Your leading, and follow You even when we don’t know what comes next.

Please give us courage to share our faith. Give us the words when we don’t know what to say. Give us the confidence to share the stories You so intricately wrote. Use our homes, our workplaces, our friendships, our struggles, our testimonies—our whole lives.

Let us become people who don’t simply talk about Jesus but know Him, love Him, follow Him, and make Him known. May our lives teach others what Your grace looks like.

And when I wonder whether my life matters, remind me of Lydia beside that river—a woman who listened, believed, opened her heart, and then opened her home.

Remind us that You can take one surrendered woman and use her life for Your kingdom.