Introduction – When The Storm Doesn’t Ask Your Permission
Storms don’t send calendar invites.
They don’t check if you’re ready.
They don’t ask if now is a good time.
They just show up.
For some of us, the storm has been loud and obvious.
For others, it’s been quiet—anxiety, uncertainty, waiting on something that still hasn’t resolved.
And one of the hardest truths for us to sit with is this:
Sometimes the storm comes while you’re doing exactly what God asked you to do.
Paul isn’t rebelling.
He isn’t running.
He’s obeying—and still ends up in the middle of chaos.
That matters, because if we’re honest, many of us were taught—maybe indirectly—that obedience should lead to smooth sailing. But Acts 27 tells a different story.
This is Week 3 of Believe Boldly.
Week 1, Blind Bartimaeus showed us bold faith cries out.
Week 2, the Centurion showed us bold faith trusts Jesus’ authority.
Today, Paul shows us bold faith declares God’s promise in the middle of the storm.
Paul is a prisoner on this ship.
He’s not in charge.
He has no visible authority.
But he is listening to God.
Before the storm ever reaches its worst moment, Paul tries to warn them.
READ: Acts 27:1, 7–11
The response is almost predictable.
They trust experience over discernment.
They trust expertise over wisdom.
They trust position over character.
And we still do this today.
We ignore warnings because they don’t come from the voice we expected.
We dismiss truth because of who it comes from.
And sometimes, we don’t really realize what we ignored until the storm gets worse.
But here’s grace:
God doesn’t abandon them because they ignored the warning.
1) When all hope is gone – God speaks anyway
Things spiral quickly.
The storm intensifies.
Visibility disappears.
Strength fades.
Luke records something chilling: all hope was gone.
This isn’t mild fear.
This is despair.
And despair is dangerous—not because it’s dramatic, but because it convinces us that nothing can change. It causes is to give up on hope.
This is often where people stop praying.
Stop asking.
Stop hoping.
But this is also where God speaks.
READ: Acts 27:20–26
Pause.
Notice what God promises—and what He doesn’t.
He promises no loss of life.
He does not promise no loss.
The ship will be destroyed.
The journey will not look how they planned.
But God will be faithful.
And Paul doesn’t keep that word to himself.
2) Faith Speaks up and Declares the promises of God
Paul gathers everyone together and tells them what God said.
This is bold.
He’s speaking hope into a room full of fear.
He’s declaring truth when circumstances argue the opposite.
And he’s honest.
Not everything will be saved.
But everyone will.
This is mature faith.
Not denial.
Not pretending things are okay.
Not minimizing pain.
Faith that says, “God spoke—and I trust Him.”
Faith turns declaration into action
Declaring God’s promise doesn’t make us passive—it prepares us to act.
Paul doesn’t just preach.
He leads.
He tells them to eat.
To regain strength.
To prepare.
READ: Acts 27:30–38
Then something practical—and painful—happens.
They start throwing cargo overboard.
Things they worked for.
Things that had value.
Things they assumed they needed.
Sometimes trusting God means letting go of what used to keep you secure.
Not sinful things.
Good things.
Plans.
Control.
Certainty.
What you thought the outcome would be.
Bold faith is willing to release what threatens survival—even if it once felt essential.
3) Even when everything seems to fall apart—God is still faithful
Eventually, the ship hits land.
It doesn’t arrive cleanly.
It doesn’t dock smoothly.
It breaks apart.
READ: Acts 27:39–44
Pause.
Some swim.
Some cling to broken pieces of the ship.
But everyone arrives alive.
God’s promise was kept—just not in the way anyone would have scripted.
And that right there is a word for someone today.
You might not arrive the way you imagined.
But you will arrive.
SERMON ILLUSTRATION – When We Are Paul
In 2010, 33 miners in Chile were trapped more than 2,000 feet underground after a mine collapse. For 17 days, no one on the surface knew if they were alive. Families waited. Rescue teams drilled with no guarantee they were even drilling in the right place.
Underground, the situation was grim. Food was rationed to crumbs. Darkness was constant. The men had no timeline and no clear way out.
But something remarkable happened down there.
Leadership emerged—not through authority, but through encouragement and structure. One miner began organizing routines. Another made sure food was shared fairly. Prayer became regular. Hope was spoken before there was evidence it would be fulfilled.
When contact was finally made, the miners didn’t ask first, “How long until you get us out?”
They asked for Bibles, letters from home, and encouragement.
Rescue would eventually come—but what kept them alive long enough to be rescued was someone willing to speak hope when fear had every reason to dominate the conversation.
They survived not because they could see the exit—but because hope was spoken while they were still buried.
That’s Acts 27.
Paul didn’t calm the storm.
He didn’t build the rescue plan.
He spoke what God had said—when everyone else was losing hope.
SERMON ILLUSTRATION – When We Are the Crew
During World War II, Louis Zamperini was flying a bombing mission over the Pacific Ocean when his plane malfunctioned and crashed into the sea.
Out of eleven men, only three survived the crash.
They found themselves drifting on a small life raft in the middle of the ocean—no engine, no navigation, no rescue signal. Just water in every direction.
Days turned into weeks.
Food ran out.
Water ran out.
Sharks circled constantly, sometimes bumping the raft.
At night, Zamperini later said he was certain they wouldn’t survive until morning.
They weren’t leading anything.
They weren’t fixing the problem.
They were barely holding on.
Survival wasn’t heroic—it was moment by moment.
Zamperini wrote later that there were moments he prayed not for rescue, but simply for the strength to endure one more day. He didn’t know how they would survive—only that if God was still with them, maybe survival was possible.
After 47 days adrift at sea, against every reasonable expectation, Zamperini survived.
Looking back years later, he said that in those moments of fear and weakness, God had carried him when he had nothing left to offer.
That’s what it looks like to be the crew.
Not confident.
Not certain.
Not in control.
Just trusting—one day at a time.
APPLICATION –
And here’s the truth for us:
There are only two roles in this story—and we rotate between them.
Some of us are Paul—called to speak hope into someone else’s storm.
But some of us are the crew—tired, scared, and unsure how we’re going to make it.
READ Hebrews 10:23-25
23 Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise.24 Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works.25 And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near.
This is why meeting together matters—because when we’re the ones going through hard times, we need people around us who can encourage us to keep following God, one step at a time.
And sometimes we’re the crew, We’re exhausted, scared, and barely holding on. Bold faith doesn’t look like having answers.
It looks like holding on.
Listen to a time when Paul was even part of the crew and how he came through it: READ 2 Corinthians 1:8-10
8 We think you ought to know, dear brothers and sisters, about the trouble we went through in the province of Asia. We were crushed and overwhelmed beyond our ability to endure, and we thought we would never live through it.9 In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we stopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely only on God, who raises the dead.10 And he did rescue us from mortal danger, and he will rescue us again. We have placed our confidence in him, and he will continue to rescue us.
Here is the promise from God when we go through hard times: READ Hebrews 6:18-19
18 So God has given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us.19 This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary.
Bold belief asks us a few honest questions:
• What storm am I currently in?
• What has God already said that I need to keep trusting?
• Is there something I need to let go of to stay afloat?
CONNECTION TO THE SERIES
Blind Bartimaeus cried out boldly.
The Centurion trusted Jesus boldly.
Paul declared God’s promise boldly.
Different stories.
Same faith.
Bold belief isn’t loud.
It’s anchored.
CLOSING – SPEAK THE PROMISE
You might not control the storm.
You might not be the captain.
You might not even feel strong.
But you can still declare what God has said.
And sometimes the boldest prayer is this:
“God, I trust You—even here.”
ALTAR CALL – Surviving the Storm
Before we pray and close, I want to create some space here.
Because if we’re honest, Acts 27 tells us something important:
Not everyone in the storm needs to speak.
Some people just need to hold on.
And there are a few different people in the room right now.
Some of you feel like Paul—you’ve been steady for others, you’ve been strong longer than you feel you should have to be, and you need God to renew your strength.
Some of you feel like the crew—tired, scared, unsure how this is going to turn out, barely holding on, and you just need to come before God and say, “I trust You, even here.”
And some of you may realize, honestly, that you’ve been trying to survive storms without God at all—relying on your own strength, your own plans, your own control—and tonight you want to place your trust fully in Him for the first time, or come back to Him.
So here’s what I want to invite you to do.
If you’re in a storm right now—
If you need courage, or endurance, or peace—
If you need to release control and trust God again—
Or if you want to place your faith in Jesus, or renew that commitment—
I want to invite you to step out from where you are and come to the altar.
You don’t need the right words.
You don’t need to explain anything.
This is simply a way of saying, “God, I’m trusting You to bring me through.”
Take your time.
No pressure.
But if the Spirit is prompting you, don’t ignore it.
As we sing this song, take time to respond. Come to the altar as your way of saying, “God, I need You in this storm right now.”
FINAL PRAYER
God, some of us are tired.
Some of us feel shaken.
Some of us feel like hope has been blocked out by the storm.
Help us trust You the way Paul did—not because the waves calmed, but because You are faithful.
Teach us to believe boldly.
To speak truth.
And to hold on—until we reach shore.
Amen.
Benediction
May the Lord bless you and keep you.
May He steady you in the storm and anchor your heart in His promise.
As you go, may you trust what God has already said,
hold fast even when the waves are strong,
and know that He is faithful to bring you safely to shore.
When you trust in Him…you will reach the shore.
Amen.
