When I was growing up, one October night in 1987, a ferocious storm beat down on the British Isles. Winds gusted up to 100mph, causing massive devastation across the country.

Millions of trees were blown down, including a huge oak, which used to take pride of place in the centre of the garden at my childhood home. Other trees toppled onto roads and railway lines, took down electricity pylons and telephone lines, left homes without power, and caused damage to buildings. Sadly, some people lost their lives.

The problem with the storm of 1987 is that, although the weather forecasters could see it coming, they failed to predict the storm’s magnitude.

Nobody was prepared.


Storms are an inevitable part of life.

Not just literal storms – but also metaphorical storms. Storms over our health, our wellbeing, our relationships, our homes, our neighbourhoods, our workplaces, our finances and more.

Sometimes we get a warning when a storm is brewing. Other times we are caught off guard. Either way, we have to make a choice about how we respond.

For several months, I have been living through one of life’s storms – and in recent weeks, it has ramped up in intensity.

I didn’t see it coming, and I wasn’t prepared.

But I am learning that the only safe place is in what’s called the ‘eye’ of the storm.

The eye is the name given to the centre of a tropical storm. Whether it’s a hurricane, cyclone or typhoon, the eye is the focal point around which the rest of the storm rotates. The eye is where the surface pressures are lowest, the temperatures are warmest, and the weather is calmest.

From inside the eye, it’s possible to see the sky. It’s a place of peace. It’s a place of safety. It’s a place of calm.

And, in the midst of life’s storms, it can be found in Jesus.


There’s a story in the Bible about a storm. (It can be found in Luke 8:22-24.)

Jesus and his disciples are on a boat, heading out from one side of the Sea of Galilee to the other. As they set sail, Jesus falls asleep, and then a squall erupts. The wind whips up. The waters rage. The boat gets swamped.

The disciples are terrified. They think they are going to drown. So they shake Jesus awake.

He gets up. He rebukes the wind and the waves. The storm subsides, and all is calm.  

Have you ever wondered how Jesus could carry on sleeping while, all around him, such a violent storm is raging?

He must have been aware of the swirling of the wind, the swell of the waves, the boat being swamped with water. But still he slept.

Could it be that he was so confident and secure in the presence of God, there was no foothold for fear or terror? Could it be that he felt so safe in the presence of God, it didn’t even cross his mind that the wind and the waves might put him in danger? Could it be that, as he lay sleeping at the bottom of the boat, he was setting us an example?


Maybe, like me, you are experiencing one of life’s storms at the moment. If this is you, what is it and how are you handling it? What are you doing to centre yourself in Jesus, to find peace and safety and calm in the midst of the storm?

As ever, constructive comments are welcome below.

Please note: This is my ‘thought for the month’ reflection for April. (You can find all my ‘thought for the month’ reflections here.)

Photo by Marcus Woodbridge via Unsplash.



  1. I remember that storm in 1987 – I slept through it! And I remember waking up to devastation. I have experienced life storms too and there have been times when I have felt tossed about in that boat. Sometimes I’ve just had to imagine holding on to the mast for dear life, knowing that at least I’ve been still in the boat – with Jesus – and that the storm would end. Praying for you, Joanna.

    • Joanna Watson Reply

      Thank you for your prayers, Joy. Thank you also for sharing about holding on to the mast for dear life. That’s such a powerful image.

  2. The storms are real and I have had many in my life. On one occasion, I could literally feel the spiritual battle raging above me and around me. Through my tears, on my way to a prayer meeting, I put my worship music on in the car and sang praises to God, refusing to give in. The following morning, I knew the storm had broken. I have been told that the storm (or battle) often intensifies just before victory. Praying your victory comes soon, Joanna. It is so easy to be like the disciples and be terrified of what the storm will do, but as you say, in the arms of Jesus is the place to be when the storm is raging. He is our wonderful healer, redeemer and saviour.

    • Joanna Watson Reply

      Thanks for commenting, Janet. I’m sorry to hear you’ve had many storms in your life, but I appreciate your encouragement.

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