Through Any Storm (Including This One)

You shocked me when you got into my boat,

And I was thinking how you didn’t ask,

And how what’s mine is mine, by God and right,

And how I’d soon enough take you to task.

And you relaxed there calmly in the sun,

Rocking backward, forward, on the remnant swells

That lapped the sandy shore where we all sat,

Or stood, staring like people under spells

Designed and cast specifically for them,

And listened to the cadence of your words

Until, mission accomplished, we set out

Into the peace a quiet lake affords.

How I forgot the mother of my wife

I don’t know, or the demons you cast out,

But when that storm blew up out of nowhere,

I found myself near paralyzed with doubt

And fear. Soaked to the skin, we fought the waves

And wind and rain while you . . . well, while you slept.

And how could you? That’s what we asked ourselves,

Who struggled with the hand of death that swept

Around and over us. Didn’t you care?

We asked you that when finally you woke

And shamed our faithlessness with just a glance

And with the storm-quieting word you spoke.

We didn’t doubt your power, even then;

The real truth is we all believed you could

Repeat the wonders we’d already seen.

What we were less sure of is if you would.

Now all these years have passed and you’ve gone home,

And I have learned to trust your father’s heart,

That there are miracles you’ve meant for me

And you will finish what you chose to start.

Forgive me where I’ve doubted in the past,

Forgetting who it is keeps me afloat.

I’ve learned across the years to trust this truth:

Through any storms that rage, you’re in my boat.