John 6:16–21 NIV
When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was already dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them.
It’s no Sea of Galilee, but I spent some time this summer at WaterWorld where I had a brush with death in the tidal wave pool. As the waves started rolling, I should have floated like a bobber. But instead, water rolled over my head. The trough yanked me under. Bob up. Bob down. The waves were relentless. I couldn’t get my head above it long enough to breathe.
A strong wind started to blow, and the sea became rough.
I was sucking in water instead of air. Nobody noticed. The water held all the power. My flailing was useless. I thought, the lifeguard has no idea that I’m dying here. Nobody will notice until they find me in the drainpipe someday.
After they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea toward their boat, and they were afraid.
But then I remembered: Jesus knows. He knows everything.
But he said to them, “It is I. Do not be afraid!”
And the next thought came to me – an irrational thought for a drowning person: did Jesus send me exactly here? What if this is exactly the place I was meant for?
He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea[a] were hushed. Psalm 107:29 NIV
That thought seemed to stretch out forever. This holy, quiet space where I stopped resisting.
He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea. Job 9:8 NIV
Suddenly the tidal machine stopped, as the “ride” was over. The waves calmed. The troughs grew shallower so my head could stay above the water for moments at a time. I could tread water. Then finally I could breathe — as much sweet air as I wanted.
Then they were willing to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the shore where they were heading.
I think now about Jesus, who knew what was in store for his disciples. He saw the darkening skies over the sea. “[He] had not yet come to them”, but instead let them take off by themselves in a dangerous situation. He didn’t supervise them. He didn’t help them avoid the storm. He actually wanted them in that boat, like He wanted me in that pool under the powerful weight of that water.
In a raging storm, I remember that ramshackle boat, that overwhelming tidal pool. Rather than fighting and flailing, desperately trying to think my way out of it, I remember I’m exactly where Christ wants me to be. It wouldn’t be otherwise.
I can’t fight a storm. I can’t beat the tidal pool. But, it is our eyes on the Lord, and nothing outside of that relationship, that calms the waters.
by Carie Grant
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