Koen's Award-Winning Story

During book week at school, Koen entered a contest where students were asked to write about an event in the life of Jesus from the point-of-view of a witness. He won 1st place for grades 4-6! He had the opportunity to share his story with students in 4th grade, plus he earned Rp. 200,000 (about $20) to spend at the school book fair. He wisely chose the new Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. (A win for Mom and Dad, too!) Please take time to read his account; may you be blessed by his words.

Koen Davies 6B

Jesus Calms the Storm

Matthew 8: 23-27

Mark 4: 35-41

Luke 8: 22-25

            My name is John. Not John the Baptist, I’m John the Disciple of Jesus. I want to tell you a story. This is a story about a man named Jesus.

            Jesus was the Son of God, but he was called more than that. Believers called him The Prince of Peace, or The Lamb who was Slain.

            Some do not believe in Jesus; they believe in false gods called Idols. But in this story, I’m going to tell you about the true God, Jesus Christ, God’s own Son.

            “Come on John!” a voice cried out across the sandy shores.

            “Coming!” I yelled. My feet blew hot sand in every direction as I ran toward Peter, my fellow disciple. Peter’s black hair swirled in the light breeze. His coat spun around him.

            “What took you so long? We were waiting for you!” Peter yelled. I hung my head a little.

            “I didn’t realize the time.” I said. That wasn’t the truth though, my dream was to write a book about Jesus one day. I had been writing notes about Jesus’s latest parable, The Parable of the Mustard Seed.

            “Well get in the boat already, Jesus said we should go to the other side of the lake, and I don’t want to keep him waiting any longer.” Peter said to me, turning his gaze to the setting sun.

            The sun cast a reddish gleam over the still waters. As I jumped into the boat, I ran to the front and stared out.

The water rippled as Peter lifted the sails and the boat started its journey.

“Where is Jesus?” I asked another disciple, James, without taking my eyes off the sunset.

“He’s below deck, sleeping I suppose.” James said, not looking up from a scrap of wood he had been cutting with a small, but effective, knife.

Yet another disciple, Andrew stepped over.

“I don’t like the look of those clouds.” he said staring up at the darkening sky. I looked up.

Dark gray clouds floated menacingly over the lake, threatening us. I groaned. I couldn’t believe we had just gotten aboard the boat, and now there was a storm coming!

I stood up, and walked past James, Andrew, Peter, and more of Jesus’s disciples so I could get to the top of the deck.

I liked this place aboard the boat because it was quiet. I could work on my writing in peace.  

Suddenly, thunder sounded. Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark sky for a split second, and then the sky turned back to an inky black. The boat started to rock.

My notes slipped from my hands.

“No!” I cried and dived forward to save them. My hand closed around most of my notes. All I could do was watch my notes on the Mustard Seed flutter down into the dark waves below. The water swallowed the pieces of parchment. I quickly checked through my notes. At least half of them were gone!

“John! John!” I heard Peter cry. “John where are you?”

I’m over here!” I yelled, though now the wind was speeding up, so I doubted he could possibly hear me over all this noise.

So I struggled my way across the deck. I slipped and fell onto the deck, and rain splattered over my coat. I groaned and I could taste sticky blood in my mouth.

I worked my way into a standing position, not easy when the wind is blowing on you from behind and every drop of rain that hits you feels like a chunk of wood.

I collapsed to my knees when I could see the shadowy outlines of Peter and James heading for me.

“We should go to see Jesus!” I yelled at them. “If he’s the Son of God, he should be able to help us!” A wave of ice cold water splashed onto the deck, freezing my knees and feet.

“I agree with John!” James yelled, facing Peter. Peter looked at him for a second, and then he nodded.

“I also agree.” Peter shouted. We gripped the side of the boat and edged our way along the side.

I could hear the other disciples screaming for help, but I couldn’t see them through the rain that was falling thick and fast.

At last we reached the door to below deck, and Peter pushed the door open. We scrambled down the stairs, the force of the rain blowing mist at us. James slammed the door shut, and I could finally see Peter and James.

Peter was gasping for breath, rain dripped off his shoulders and his hair clung to the side of his face.

James wasn’t much difference, except he was shivering. I looked around. Below the boat was dry and warm. In the middle of the deck was a cushion, and Jesus lay fast asleep upon it.

Jesus’s hair was a light brown, and it hung down to his shoulders. He wore white robes of linen that seemed extra bright in the dimly light boat.

Peter stepped forward and said “Jesus! Lord save us! We are going to drown!”

Jesus opened his eyes and looked up at Peter. Then Jesus spoke to Peter: “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?”

Peter seemed to be embarrassed by this statement. Jesus got up and walked toward the door.

I followed him, with Peter and James behind me. A slight smile had appeared on James face, perhaps he thought that Peter’s embarrassment was very funny.

Jesus stepped out onto the deck, and the disciples stopped yelling. Jesus walked straight down the center of the boat.

When he got to the tip of the boat, he lifted his arms to the heavens. Rain splattered down on my face as I watched in amazement. Through the rain I could hear Jesus speaking.

“Quiet!” Jesus shouted. Some of the disciples thought this was directed at them, so their mouths closed in unison. But I got the feeling Jesus wasn’t talking to them. “Be still!” Jesus cried, and suddenly, the rain stopped. The waves took one last crash and disappeared under the water. The wind turned into a soft breeze.

I stared at Jesus in wonder and in amazement. Water still remained splattered over the deck, and my coat was drenched with ice cold water, but the storm had passed.

Jesus turned to look at us. We stood still as statues.

“Where is your faith?’ said Jesus softly. The breeze tossed his hair into his face and his smile was mysterious. He turned and walked back down to below deck, his feet thumping down the stairs.

And just as I saw the outline of land, I had realized that Jesus Christ, is The Son of God. The Prince of Peace. The Lamb Who was Slain.

So that’s my story. The story about Jesus and his miraculous miracles. How he saved us from that storm.

But somethings about this story still trouble me. Look at what Jesus says to Peter. ‘You of little faith, why are you so afraid?’ I think that little faith is sort of like saying that God is real, that Jesus is the son of God, but you ignore him the rest of the time. And we don’t need to be afraid like me and the other disciples, we had Jesus with us. If we trust in him, we don’t need to be scared of the crashing waves.

And I also think a lot about the line ‘Where is your faith?’ I think it means does your faith belong to God, or to the Idols of sin?

So I end with this question: Where is your faith?