“As they sailed across, Jesus settled down for a nap. But soon a fierce storm came down on the lake. The boat was filling with water, and they were in real danger.”
Luke 8:23

The steady rocking of a boat would normally have put Peter to sleep. Before following Jesus, he had spent his life on the water. Storms were familiar to him. He understood rough nights and heavy waves.

But this storm was different.

There was something unsettling about it, something that would not let him rest. As the wind howled and the rain cut through the darkness, Peter scanned the faces around him. Fear had crept in. The danger was real. Then he noticed something that stopped him cold.

Jesus was asleep.

In disbelief, Peter grabbed Him and shook Him awake. “Master, we are going to drown!” The urgency in his voice could not be hidden. In a moment, Jesus rose, rebuked the storm, and calm followed chaos. Then came the question that lingered in the silence: “Where is your faith?”

Storms have a way of doing that to us. They blur perspective. When loss, fear, or sudden change hits, it can feel like we are taking on water faster than we can respond. We wonder if we will survive the undertow. We ask questions we never thought we would ask. Are You still here? Are You seeing this?

August 9, 2010, was a storm like that for me.

That night in Afghanistan, our mission changed instantly. What began as a combat operation became a rescue mission when a helicopter went down. In a matter of moments, everything shifted. Friends were lost. Others were severely injured. The focus moved from engaging the enemy to saving lives under impossible conditions.

Those events leave marks that do not fade with time.

Coming home does not mean leaving it all behind. A part of you remains there—on the ground, in the air, in the faces and names you never forget. It takes years to understand how deeply those moments shape who you become.

What I have come to see, slowly and often painfully, is that even in the fiercest storms, God does not abandon His people. That night did not destroy love, courage, or brotherhood. It revealed them. Those of us who were spared were given a responsibility—to lift one another up, to stand with those who are still hurting, and to carry forward the mission of compassion.

Just as Christ steadied the boat, He continues to steady us. Not by erasing the storm, but by walking with us through it.

If you want to understand more about that night and the men who lived it, Rotors in the Sand by General Don Harvel offers a powerful and honest account of the events and their lasting impact.

Some storms pass. Others stay with us.

But faith reminds us we are not alone in the boat.

To learn more about that night in Afghanistan, visit:
https://rotorsinthesand.com/