When the Noise Grows Loud
It was the 28th of February—day two of Parables. After lunch, we returned to our seats, once again immersed in God’s Word, soaking in the warmth of his love.
A couple of hours later, during a short break, I found myself in a rather intense conversation about something stirring in my heart, while others around me were discussing a potential conflict. We paused to pray and then carried on with the rest of the session. We ended day two. I was all stirred up, satisfied, and quietly rejoicing in all that I had heard. It was bliss!
As I was leaving for home, I suddenly realized that outside those walls, things were not quite the same. I had a frantic husband and a phone with several missed calls, and messages checking if I was okay.
And truth be told—I was more than “okay.” I was on top of the world.
I had just spent two days being reminded of how deeply the Lord of the universe loves me and that he sent his Son to die in my place so that I may have eternal life with him. What greater assurance does a child of God need? How could that leave me merely “okay”?
This is not to say that I am fearless or that my faith runs deep at all times. But I learned something that day. I realized that when we withdraw and are immersed in the Lord and in his Word, we experience peace that steadies us. There is a rest in him that the noise around us cannot easily shake.
The news updates, the loud bangs, and the alerts that followed that day and in the days after did not steal that peace, even to my own surprise. Instead, that time spent with the Lord filled me with a quiet, unwavering hope that could come only from him.
I also observed my three-year-old that day. Amidst all the noise, he was completely unperturbed. Was it his faith that kept him calm? Certainly not. He was at rest because he was at home, with his father and mother. He lived that day and the days before and after with the same assurance - that we would not leave his side. The noise could grow louder, but his heart was tuned to the pulse of his parents. It is no wonder that our Lord placed a child on his lap to show us what it means to belong to the kingdom. There is peace and assurance in knowing our maker— one that quietens the noise around us.
Yet, I would be dishonest if I said fear never crept in during the days that followed. As colleagues and friends called to check in, I saw the world around me shaken—grasping for control, scrambling for safety.
I found myself wondering, “Am I missing something? Do I not understand how serious this is?” It almost felt as though I should panic—just to keep in step with everyone else.
But in his mercy, the Lord drew me back again. He reminded me that what I was seeing was an outward reflection of an inward reality of many hearts that were gripped by fear because they do not know him. He reminded me that I have hope and assurance that far outweighs the chaos of the world, not because my faith is strong or that I am strong in myself but because the one who goes before me is the almighty himself, the sovereign Lord of the universe who has the whole world in his hands.
And the reality is that we all know these truths but can only live them out when we withdraw from the noise and quieten ourselves before the Lord.
I was reminded of Peter walking on the water in the midst of a storm in Matthew 14:22–32. It wasn’t that Peter was the strongest, most courageous or devout disciple of Jesus and therefore it couldn’t have been his ability that enabled him to take that walk of faith. Rather what enabled him to walk on a buffeting sea was that his eyes were fixed on Jesus. It is also true that the same Peter also fell when he took his eyes off his maker, only to be pulled back up by him.
So it is with us. Like Peter, we can exercise faith and be restful in times like this because Jesus is with us in this storm. We only need to turn our gaze upon him and rest secure in his presence, marveling at him and his majesty.
Worship, then, becomes a powerful antidote to fear. Let us not wait for the winds to calm, as the disciples did (Matthew 14:33). We can worship him now, even in the storm—because we know how this story ends.
Church, he is with us, and we are his. Let us come to him, rest in him, worship him and find our peace in him. And simply be - like a child, unafraid and at rest in his presence.
