Mark Galli tells the following story in his book Jesus Mean and Wild:

A group of Laotian refugees who had been attending the Sacramento church I pastored approached me after the service one Sunday and asked to become members. Our church had sponsored them, and they had been attending the church only a few months. They had only a rudimentary understanding of the Christian faith, so I suggested we study the Gospel of Mark together for a few weeks to make sure they knew what a commitment to Christ and his church entailed. They happily agreed.

Despite the Laotians' lack of Christian knowledge—or maybe because of it—the Bible studies were some of the most interesting I've ever led. After we read the passage in which Jesus calms the storm, I began as I usually did with more theologically sophisticated groups: I asked them about the storms in their lives. There was a puzzled look among my Laotian friends, so I elaborated: We all have storms—problems, worries, troubles, crises—and this story teaches that Jesus can give us peace in the midst of those storms. "So what are your storms?" I asked.

Again, more puzzled silence. Finally, one of the men hesitantly asked, "Do you mean that Jesus actually calmed the wind and sea in the middle of a storm?"

I thought he was finding the story incredulous, and I didn't want to get distracted with the problem of miracles. So I replied: "Yes, but we should not get hung up on the details of the miracle. We should remember that Jesus can calm the storms in our lives."

Another stretch of awkward silence ensued until another replied, "Well, if Jesus calmed the wind and the waves, he must be a powerful man!" At this, they all nodded vigorously and chattered excitedly to one another in Lao. Except for me, the room was full of wonder. I suddenly realized that they grasped the story better than I did.