It’s easy to be a Christian when things are going wrong. Sure, sometimes we shake our fists at God and cry out, “Why me?” But, when our anger turns to genuine hurt, we turn to Father. Like small children when things go bad and we want our mommy, our prayer of “Abba, Father, please help me,” comes easily to our lips and hearts.
We’re not alone—even the most “righteous” do so. In Luke 8, 22-25, the disciples found themselves in trouble. Up a creek without a paddle, so to speak. What did they do? Did they try to figure out things for themselves or take the easy way out, as we all do at times? They took the easy way. They woke Jesus up.
After He calmed the storm, He asked, “Where is your faith?” Such a simple question yet packed with meaning. Where is our faith when things go wrong? I’ll bet most of you have asked someone the same thing. “Where is your faith?” Why do you not assume your heavenly father won’t “automatically” take care of you? If you read Matthew 10, verses 28-31, Jesus assures us we have more value than many sparrows. The passage is well worth remembering, especially when things go wrong.
If we could remember it, we wouldn’t be crying out in desperation for help, hoping He’s there. We’ll call on His promises, and He always keeps them—to protect, love, and keep us from harm. But we don’t always remember, which is why it’s so easy to be a Christian when things go wrong. We communicate with God more. Daily prayer? Must cook dinner, work, play on the computer, watch TV—take your pick. Daily Bible reading? Had to work late. Quiet time with Father? Sorry, too busy. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow when I need you. Maybe tomorrow when I forget your promise. Maybe tomorrow when you’ll have to ask, “Where is your faith?”
It’s too bad, isn’t it? It’s too bad we can’t spend as much time with the Lord when things are going right as when they’re going wrong. When was the last time you thanked Him for something? Not for healing a sick loved one, getting a raise, or the cop giving you just a warning when you’re speeding. Not for those times. For the times when you just wake up. For the times when you hear the first bird of spring. For when you go into the garden and see a perfect rose. For those times. When He least expects it.
I wonder if it hurts Him when we forget. We look at a beautiful cloud and forget who put it there. We expect a thank-you card from someone we sent a present, but we don’t give God enough “thank-you cards”. Unless things are going wrong. Then we’re right there with the tears and the thank you. It doesn’t last too long, though, does it? Too bad.
I wonder if the disciples thanked Him for protecting them. It doesn’t say they did—they just ended up on shore. No mention of a thank you. When they had a chance to protect him in the garden of Gethsemane, what did they do? They fell asleep. How many times have we all fallen asleep without a simple thank you? Without talking to Father when things are going great.
In our hearts should be a promise to not ignore God until there’s a crisis and we need Him. In our hearts should be a promise to daily walk hand-in-hand, to let Him rule our lives, to keep the lines of communication continually open. If so, we’d hear the still, small voice of God speaking, saying He loves us. Of Him leading us in the right direction. Of Him protecting us, keeping us safe, and valuing us more than many sparrows.
“Where is your faith?” How wonderful if Jesus never had to ask that. If we were close, we could hear if He did. We’d know we strayed and we’d come home. God would live in our heart—not just in the calm before the storm, but on all days, in all ways.