Jesus Is On My Boat

 

Life has this way of throwing waves at you when you're just trying to float. Some days, it feels like I'm rowing furiously through stormy seas with nothing but a chipped paddle and a whole lot of hope. 

Mama life is messy. Emotions are messy. Relationships can be messy. And sometimes. it feels like I'm about two seconds from yelling, "Man overboard!" while clinging to my coffee cup like it's a lifeline. 

But here's the peace that quiets my panic:
Jesus is on my boat. 

 

I'm not just out here drifting through the chaos alone. Nope. My Savior—the One who walked on water and calmed the raging sea with a single word—is in this little life boat with me. He's not surprised by the storms, and He's definitely not intimidated by the size of the waves. 

🚤 When The Winds Pick Up 

Let's be real. Some mornings start off with a diaper blowout, spilled formula. and me trying to find clean clothes while also Googling "is crying while holding a bottle normal?" just for an example. Spoiler alert: yes, yes it is.) Then I remember the story in Mark 4, when the disciples were freaked out in their boat during a wild storm—and Jesus? He was asleep. Asleep. 

Not because He didn't care—but because He knew they were going to make it. 

That story reminds me that even when I can't see how I'll keep everything from tipping over—when I feel unseen, unheard, or completely undone—Jesus is calm. He's not panicked. He's not pacing the deck. He's present. And if He's not worried, maybe I don't have to be either. 

🛟 Jesus Doesn't Jump Ship  

Sometimes, I wonder why He would choose to stay on board with me. I get moody. I doubt. I yell into the wind. I throw sass and surrender in the same breath. But you know what? Jesus doesn't bail. 

He doesn't roll His eyes at my messy prayers. He doesn't need me to be captain of the ship, or anyone else's for that matter— He just wants me to trust the One who is. 

Whether by boat looks like motherhood, mental health recovery. grief, healing from toxic patterns, or all of the above jammed into a glorified canoe held together by iced coffee and Target receipts — He's still here. Steering when I can't. Speaking peace when I forget to listen. Holding it all together when I feel like I'm falling apart. 

 

⚓ The Anchor That Holds  

There's this unshakable truth I cling to on the rough days: Jesus doesn't promise calm seas, but He does promise His presence. 

And when the wind howls and the waves try to sink me, I remember — I've got the Savior of the world in my boat. The One who commands the storm and comforts the soul. He's not going anywhere. 

So I'll keep rowing, keep praying, keep parenting, an keep showing up—even when tangled hair and mascara smudges—because I don't have to navigate this alone. 

Jesus is here.
And this little boat?
It's sailing under grace. 

Want to remind a fellow mama or someone you know that aren't in their storm alone? Share this post and let them know: 
You don't have to have it all together—just remember Who's on your boat. 

With love and coffee-stained hope,
Ariella's Mama