2. Lord, Don't You Care?

Martha's question in Luke 10:40 is worth reading slowly: “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” It is an accusation dressed up as a question. This chapter takes up the sibling-rivalry feelings the story stirs. Anyone with a brother or sister knows the sting of “why am I the one doing all the work?” The chapter also asks where you have voiced the same question to God.

Now open Mark 4:35-41. The disciples are crossing a lake with Jesus. “A great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling.” And Jesus “was in the stern, asleep on the cushion.” They wake him with words that sound a lot like Martha's: “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Weaver links the two scenes, and it is easy to see why. In both, someone is overwhelmed, Jesus seems calm, and the calm feels like indifference.

Watch what Jesus does. He “rebuked the wind and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.” Then he turns to the disciples: “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” That is a real question, and he doesn't skip it. He deals with the storm, and he also speaks to the fear underneath their words. Notice, too, that Mark 4:36 says they took him with them in the boat. He was in the storm with them from the start.

Here is the core idea of the chapter: whether God cares is answered by the love he has already shown, not by how the circumstances look today. If the weather is your evidence, every storm looks like a verdict. Isaiah 43:1-2 gives a different kind of evidence. God says he has redeemed his people and called them by name, and that when they pass through the waters he will be with them. That promise assumes you will go through water. What it settles is who goes with you.

The chapter also turns to Psalm 103. David tells his own soul to remember God's benefits. God forgives, heals, redeems a life from the pit, and crowns his people with steadfast love and mercy. Verse 13 says he shows compassion the way a father does. That is a record, not a mood. When a hard season makes you doubt, the record is still true.

The chapter closes with a letter to Jesus about the ways he has shown his love, and that is today's practice. Naming specifics is how you answer the question with evidence instead of with feelings.

If your “do you not care?” comes out of deep loss, grief, or ongoing pain, please bring it to a pastor, counselor, or trusted friend as well as to God. You don't have to carry that question alone.

Look again at Martha's words in Luke 10:40: "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?" Hold onto that phrase, because Weaver's second chapter takes it up and asks where readers have said the same thing. The chapter also notes the sibling-rivalry feelings this story stirs. Many of us bristle at it because we know the sting of being the one who carries more while someone else seems to get the easy part.

Now turn to Mark 4. A great windstorm has hit the lake. Waves are breaking into the boat, "so that the boat was already filling." And Jesus? He was "in the stern, asleep on the cushion." The disciples wake him with almost the same question Martha asked: "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"

See what the two scenes share. In both, a person is overwhelmed, and Jesus appears calm and unbothered. In both, the overwhelmed person reads his calm as proof that he does not care. That is the leap worth noticing. Pressure makes us read Jesus' quiet as absence or indifference. We judge his heart by what our circumstances look like.

But look at what Jesus does. He rises, speaks to the wind and sea, and "there was a great calm." Then he asks the disciples a question of his own: "Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?" Their question was about his care. His was about their trust. And notice that he was in the boat the whole time. He never left. Isaiah 43:1-2 says the same thing in another setting: God calls his people by name and promises to be with them when they pass through the waters and the fire.

The book's core point is that whether God cares is answered by his demonstrated love, not by how your day is going. That is why the chapter sends readers to Psalm 103. David tells his own soul to remember all God's benefits: he forgives, he heals, he redeems, and he shows compassion the way a father does toward his children. That psalm is a list of evidence. When your feelings shout "he doesn't care," you can answer them with a record of what he has done.

For a woman, that record often gets tested in the middle of the night, by a sick child, a strained marriage, or a body that is worn out. Those are real storms. The Bible does not tell you to pretend the waves are small. It invites you to bring the question to him, as the disciples did, and then to let his past faithfulness speak louder than the wind.

You are allowed to ask, "Do you care?" Just do not stop at the question. Go find the answer he has already written in your life.