Mark 4:38

This verse comes from a story in the Gospel of Mark where Jesus and his disciples — most of them experienced fishermen — were crossing the Sea of Galilee by boat when a violent storm hit. Waves were crashing over the sides and the boat was filling with water. Meanwhile, Jesus was asleep in the back on a cushion. In their panic, the disciples woke him with a desperate question: "Don't you care if we drown?" The Sea of Galilee was known for sudden, violent squalls, and these weren't nervous novices — these were men who had spent their lives on this water. The fact that they were this afraid tells you how bad it was. Their question sounds less like a prayer and more like an accusation.

Jesus, some days I feel the water rising and I can't find you anywhere. I confess I sometimes mistake your silence for indifference. Help me trust that you're in the boat with me — and that you still have power over every storm that is terrifying me right now. Amen.

It is one of the most human moments in all four Gospels. A storm. A sleeping Jesus. And disciples who sound less like people praying and more like people who feel abandoned. "Don't you care?" isn't a theological question — it's the cry of someone who expected presence and got silence. If you've ever stared at a hospital ceiling or sat in a car in a parking lot not able to go inside yet, unable to feel anything from God but absence, you're in very good company. What's striking is that Jesus doesn't rebuke the disciples for asking. He rebukes the storm — but the raw, almost rude question goes unanswered directly. The answer comes in what he does. Sometimes God's response to your "don't you care?" is not an explanation but an action. Not a theological defense, but calmed water. Keep asking. Keep waking him. And pay attention to what he does with the storm.