Disoriented

What this episode covers

READ: MATTHEW 7:24-27; EPHESIANS 4:11-32; COLOSSIANS 2:6-10 The space weather alarm buzzed on my cruiser, Nova. I was halfway back to Earth after gathering medical supplies on Triton. Sensors indicated a dense solar wind heading my way—usually bringing a geomagnetic storm. I routed extra power to shields, retracted stabilizers to prevent shearing, and strapped myself to the chair. One minute to impact. I slid sweaty hands down my legs and took a deep breath. “Flight tracker, this is Nova. I am 2.3 billion kilometers from Earth, returning from one of Neptune’s moons, Triton. A strong solar storm approaches. May need assistance.” Before I could transmit the message, the storm hit. The sudden radiation overwhelmed my systems, and red lights started flashing all over my controls. As I whirled, I tried to track my orientation, but sensors refused to lock. The navigation screen blanked—probably fried from the magnetic pulse. The Nova spiraled relentlessly. Nausea surged through my insides. I closed my eyes and wished the dizziness away. Which way was Earth? Could I stabilize the ship? I tapped the side thrusters. The engines hissed. My rotation slowed, but the sun’s brightness still whipped around several times per second. I burned the thrusters again. Sensors showed that Nova had stabilized, but my head was still reeling. In space, fluid in the inner ears continued to spin, causing vertigo. Should I trust my disoriented brain to navigate, or rely on the sensors, possibly damaged by the magnetic pulse? Thud! Something collided with Nova’s lower deck, followed by a high-pitched grating of titanium. I reversed the thrusters and saw my communications antenna drifting away amid a cloud of space debris. I ran a systems diagnostic. Along with my ability to communicate, navigation was also down. I scanned for a homing beacon signal, but found none. I closed my eyes and prayed. Father, lead me through the storm. I breathed deeply and opened my eyes. I could see the sun through a window. At this distance, it appeared more like a very bright star, but its shining was unmistakable. That’s what I needed—something steady, something outside myself. I turned the ship toward that brightest spot and engaged the main thruster. • Michelle Cochran • Today’s story is an allegory. So many things can leave us feeling disoriented. When the storms of life throw us off balance, we may not know how to find steadiness, or how to move forward. Thankfully, Jesus is always constant. He never changes, no matter how unsteady our lives may get (Hebrews 13:8). He always wants to help us and lead us safely home. What kinds of storms have you experienced lately? • Can you think of a time when a circumstance you went through or an idea you heard left you feeling disoriented, but then something helped you find stability and clarity again? Maybe it was a Bible passage, a conversation with another Christian, a time of prayer, a hymn or worship song, or something in nature that reminded you of its Creator. Consider taking a moment to thank God for this. • God sees everything you’re going through, and He has so much compassion on you. What might it look like for you to rely on Jesus to lead you through the storms you’re currently facing? That we may no longer be children, tossed back and forth and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, in craftiness, after the wiles of error; but speaking truth in love, we may grow up in all things into him who is the head, Christ. Ephesians 4:14-15 (WEB)

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