The Storm Within the Boat

 “Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace, be still!’”

— Mark 4:39 (NKJV)

In every relationship there is a boat, and in that boat two people ride out storms together. Some storms come from outside the pressures of life, loss, or fear. Others rise from within old wounds, unspoken expectations, and the quiet clash between how men and women feel, think, and decide.

When the waves rise, it’s often the woman who feels them first. Her heart senses the change in air pressure, the threat, the movement, the emotion. It’s as though she can smell the storm before it breaks.
The man, meanwhile, may still be adjusting the sail, scanning the horizon, trying to work out where the wind is coming from. He’s less tuned to the waves, more to the course.

One husband once said to me that when he sensed a storm coming, whether from his wife’s unrest, a son’s struggle, or his own awareness that something was shifting, his instinct was to get out of the boat and pull it ashore. “I need to fix it,” he said. “The thought of sitting still feels alien to me.” 

And yet sometimes, that’s exactly what faith requires: to stay in the boat, to remain beside those who are afraid, and wait for Jesus to speak.

When fear grips one and striving grips the other, the boat begins to drift. But when they remember that the boat is not theirs alone, that Jesus is in it too, the panic subsides. The storm is still there, but no longer in control.

Perhaps the real call to men is not to dominate the sea or silence the waves, but to stay awake, to be present, listening for Christ’s command rather than reacting to fear. And perhaps the call to women is not to suppress what they feel, but to let their sensitivity become the early warning that brings the boat to prayer rather than panic.

When both trust the same Captain, strength and sensitivity become companions, not competitors.
The wind still howls, but the boat holds steady, not because they have mastered the sea, but because they have remembered Who commands it.

And maybe that’s the quiet truth behind all the storms we face, whether in marriage, ministry, or life itself. The goal was never to escape the weather, but to learn to stay with Him in it. Each storm becomes another lesson in trust; another reminder that peace is not the absence of wind, but the presence of Christ.

---

That now reads as a natural companion piece to your earlier “Storm” reflection — still gentle, visual, and layered with meaning.

What would you like to explore next?

Jesus in the Boat — Finding Peace in the Storms Between Us

There’s a moment in Mark’s Gospel that has always spoken deeply to me. Jesus and His disciples are crossing the Sea of Galilee when a furious storm suddenly sweeps down. The waves crash into the boat, the wind howls, and the disciples — experienced fishermen — panic. Meanwhile, Jesus is asleep in the stern, on a cushion.

When they wake Him, shouting, “Teacher, don’t You care that we are perishing?” Jesus rises, rebukes the wind, and says to the sea, “Peace, be still.” And the wind ceases, and there is a great calm. Then He asks them, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?” (Mark 4:35-41 NKJV)

That story is more than an account of wind and waves — it’s a picture of what happens between people, especially within marriage. Sometimes the storm is not outside the boat but inside it — between two people who love each other but are caught in a moment of fear, frustration, or misunderstanding. Words are said, feelings rise, and suddenly the boat that once felt steady begins to pitch and roll.

We can’t always prevent these storms. Differences, hurts, and pressures come. What matters is whether we remember that Jesus is still in the boat. When we turn toward Him instead of against one another, His presence begins to calm the waters. It may not happen instantly — often we must ride out the storm together — but when the winds subside, He helps us to tidy up, to forgive, and to find peace again.

For me, this passage has become a living metaphor for relationships:

• The boat represents the life we share — marriage, family, friendship.

• The storm represents the conflicts that test our love and faith.

• The sleeping Christ represents the peace that is present but often forgotten in the heat of the moment.

Faith doesn’t mean we’ll never clash. It means that when we do, we have Someone greater than our emotions who can still the storm — within and between us.

“And suddenly there was a great calm.”

May that calm, born of His presence, steady your heart and home today.

Sitting Still in the Storm

Sometimes when the storm begins to rise, our first instinct is to row harder — to fix, to control, to make something happen. We think that if we can just do a bit more, push a bit harder, we’ll somehow quiet the wind. But faith often asks the opposite of us.

Jesus’ words to the wind and the waves were the same words He speaks to our hearts: “Peace, be still.”

Stillness isn’t weakness. It’s the quiet strength that trusts God is already at work when we can’t see how. To sit still in the storm is not to give up, but to yield the oars and let Christ take hold of them. It’s the discipline of resting in His presence when everything in us wants to act.

In those moments, stillness becomes a kind of worship — an act of surrender that says, “You are Lord, even over this.”

When we choose to sit still, we begin to see more clearly who is truly steering the boat.

Fourteen Years Later — Still in the Same Boat

It’s been some time since my last post, in fact, more than a decade. When I first wrote here in 2011, life and ministry looked quite different. Since then, much has changed, yet the heart of Grace and Faith Counselling remains the same: helping people find hope and steadiness in the storms of life.

The last ten years have held many challenges, both personally and in the country. Perhaps the greatest for us was Covid — learning to adapt to online counselling and technology (I am finally comfortable with Zoom appointments!). Linda’s health declined and she had to retire, and I too stepped back from tutoring counselling courses at Epping Forest College to focus on Grace and Faith Counselling as a semi-retired counsellor.

Through it all, our relationship with God has remained our foundation keeping us sane in an often insane world. I’ve been honoured to walk with many clients through their own storms and to witness, time and again, how His grace meets people right where they are.

As I return to writing, I hope to share a few reflections drawn from Scripture, faith, and counselling experience. The first of these, “Jesus in the Boat,” explores one of my favourite metaphors for living through life’s storms with Christ at the centre.

I hope you will find these reflections helpful.

In many ways, that image of the storm-tossed boat has come to mean more to me with each passing year. Life brings tempests we never saw coming, yet the lesson remains the same: Jesus is still in the boat. The next reflection grew out of that truth — a meditation on what it means to stay calm, keep faith, and let His presence still the storm within.