Trust

Mark 4:35-41

The wind is picking up and flapping
my jacket in the gusts, infused through with
fat drops of stinging rain.
Rising with the dread inside my gut, the wind
blows harder.
Home is a long way from here.
I don't want to be unnerved or soaked by icy droplets.
But the wind persists, throwing
my insecurities up to the surface: failures
tossed in the air without regard. Exposed
to the drips and the flood,
I bail and lash down with all my might.
What I thought was my inner sanctum; whipped
to terrifying shreds.
Panicked by the exposure of all I've
hidden in nooks and crannies down to my toes.
What I've clung to has betrayed me.
Death must be onlv a step away
and I wonder, with searing anger, why my dearest
friend seems to be sleeping.
My anguished cries reveal he's standing
right by my side; speaking. The
storm calms down to nothing; my tattered
misplaced hopes fall with
soggy thuds.
And I am reminded
I'm reminded why all inside me
should have been given
a safer home, along with my soul.
Secured by trust within the one who created
rain and wind.
"Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"