The Wisdom of the Storm
Paul knew the storm was coming. He had warned them, told them it wasn’t a good time to sail, but the captain and the owner of the ship thought they knew better. The weather seemed fine at first, a gentle breeze pushing them along, and they figured Paul was just being overly cautious. But then, out of nowhere, the wind turned. And it wasn’t just any wind—this was Euroclydon, a violent northeastern storm, the kind that made even seasoned sailors afraid.
For days, the ship was tossed around like a leaf in the wind. The men worked frantically, throwing cargo overboard to keep the ship from sinking. They didn’t eat, barely slept, and fear wrapped around them like the cold sea mist. They thought they were going to die. But in the middle of that chaos, Paul stood up. He wasn’t a sailor, he wasn’t the captain, but he had something none of them had—peace.
“Men, you should have listened to me,” he said, not to boast, but to remind them that wisdom often comes before disaster. “But take heart! Not a single one of you will die—only the ship will be lost.” And then he told them something incredible. “Last night, an angel of God came to me and said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar, and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you.’” In other words, no matter how bad the storm got, God was still in control.
Sure enough, after two weeks of being beaten by the wind and waves, they ran aground on an island—Malta. The ship was wrecked, but every single person made it to shore, just as Paul had said. And because of that storm, Paul ended up in a place where God worked miracles. A snake bit him, and he didn’t die, shocking the locals. He healed the chief’s father and many others, and the people of Malta, who had never known the true God, saw His power firsthand.
The storm seemed like a disaster, but it was actually part of God’s plan. That’s how it is with life, isn’t it? We try to avoid trouble, but sometimes, no matter what we do, the storm comes anyway. And when it does, we have a choice—panic like the sailors, or trust like Paul. Because in every storm, there’s a purpose. Sometimes, God is redirecting us. Sometimes, He’s teaching us to let go. And sometimes, He’s just showing us that no matter how hard the wind blows, He’s still in charge.
This is the essence of faith—trusting that God knows what He’s doing, even when the waves are high and the sky is dark. Just like fasting requires faith that God will sustain us, the storms of life require faith that He will lead us safely to shore.
This is the message of The Rich Feast, The Poor Fast—learning to trust God’s timing, His provision, and His purpose, even when the winds howl around us. Because whether in feasting or fasting, in calm or in storm, God is always faithful.
Read how this book can transform your mind. Never preached in most churches today.
