OUR television screens have lately been filled with pictures of the impact of storms back home in Britain, with trees uprooted, power lines cut and widespread damage as winds of around 90 mph ravaged the land.
We watched and sympathised as, living on top of a mountain, we’re well used to such extremes of weather. These past few weeks for example, whilst it’s been pretty draughty at the coast, we’ve at times been subjected to unbelievable gales, with gusts often regularly close to 100 mph.
Solar panels have been shaking ominously, threatening to tear themselves apart and the wind turbine has been screaming its objection to the unusual wind speeds.
One particular gust lifted the cover off the pool, several metres into the air like a giant kite, restrained only by the ties to the roller, which itself was dragged into the pool, and it took every ounce of strength and numerous ropes for my wife and I to bring it back to ground level and restore some semblance of order.
Such is the immense power of nature; hard enough to handle when on solid ground, but utterly terrifying at sea when such power is unleashed with intensity.
So just how bad must it have been when the storm blew up on the Sea of Galilee when Jesus was crossing it with his disciples.
Several of them were hardened, experienced sailors, yet this storm was sufficiently violent for them, believing it would awaken their master (who was sleeping peacefully through it all) in terror and fairly bad grace.
And Jesus, we are told simply rebuked the wind and waves and they instantly became calm, which is probably more than could be said of his disciples.
A lesson we too so often need to learn as the storms of life threaten to overwhelm us.
For as we turn to him in panic, we will find he is not asleep uncaring, but in full control, able to still the turmoil within.