“But straightway, Jesus spoke unto them saying, be of good cheer, it is I, bet not afraid” – Matthew 14:27
I gave up scary movies years ago—not because they aren’t thrilling, but because I like sleeping at night without my imagination turning every sound into a lurking serial killer or an under-the-bed demon plotting my demise. Every creak of the house became a supernatural threat. Shadows turned into monsters, and even the family cat seemed to have a suspicious glint in its eyes, as if it knew something I didn’t. All this unnecessary paranoia—for the price of a movie ticket and a bucket of overpriced popcorn.
One day, I realized something: I was paying good money to be scared. The fear I felt? Completely self-inflicted. So, I did the only reasonable thing—I stopped watching horror movies. That decision brought me a lot of peace. But let’s be real: scary movies are one thing; real-life terror is another. And if we’re talking about real fear, few things compare to what the disciples went through in the middle of the Sea of Galilee one stormy night.
Picture this: It’s pitch black. You’re in a boat, miles from shore, and suddenly, a violent storm erupts. Wind howls, rain lashes down, and waves toss your boat like a toy in a bathtub. You’re soaked, exhausted, and gripping the boat for dear life, knowing that capsizing is a real possibility. Just when you think things couldn’t get worse, you see something—or rather, someone—walking on the water toward you.
Cue the horror movie soundtrack.
Their reaction? They lost it.
“It’s a ghost!” they cried.
Now, I don’t blame them. Imagine being in their shoes. It’s dark. You’re battling a storm. And now, a ghostly figure is approaching on the waves? Nope. I would have checked out right then and there.
The Bible says these were experienced fishermen, men who knew the water well. If anyone should have been able to handle a storm, it was them. But this storm had them on edge. And when fear mixes with exhaustion and uncertainty, it distorts what you see. Their fear convinced them they were seeing a supernatural terror rather than their Savior.
But then, in the midst of the chaos, came a voice—clear, steady, and familiar:
“Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.” (Matthew 14:27, ESV)
Jesus didn’t immediately calm the storm. He didn’t snap His fingers and transport them to safety. Instead, He did something even more powerful—He stepped into the storm with them.
Isn’t that just like Jesus?
He doesn’t always remove the storm right away. Sometimes, He lets the waves rage a little longer. But in the middle of it all, He speaks peace—not necessarily to the circumstances, but to us. He reassures us that we are not alone. He tells us to take heart. He reminds us that we don’t have to be afraid.
And that changes everything.
We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Maybe not in a boat in the middle of a literal sea, but we’ve all faced storms. The diagnosis we didn’t expect. The financial strain we don’t see a way out of. The heartbreak that leaves us feeling shattered. The anxiety that keeps us up at night. Fear grows when we focus on what we can see—the chaos, the uncertainty, the danger. Just like the disciples, our minds start filling in the blanks with worst-case scenarios.
But Jesus invites us to look again.
What if the thing that looks terrifying at first is actually Him drawing near? What if the storm isn’t proof that we’ve been abandoned, but proof that He’s coming closer? What if the very thing we fear the most is the place where Jesus is about to show up in power?
Sometimes, in our fear, we misinterpret His presence. We see a ghost when it’s really our Savior. We assume He’s distant when He’s actually right there. We expect judgment when He’s offering peace.
Jesus doesn’t just walk on water to impress us. He walks on water to show us that what threatens to sink us is already under His feet. He is not afraid of our storms. He is not overwhelmed by our struggles. He is not intimidated by our doubts.
So, what do we do when we’re caught in a storm? We listen for His voice.
And when we hear Him say, “It is I. Do not be afraid,” we take heart. The One who commands the waves is walking right beside us.
The storm may still rage for a while. The waves may not die down instantly. But His presence is enough to bring peace before the sea is calm.
So, the next time you find yourself in the middle of a storm, remember this: He’s already there. He sees you. He’s walking toward you, not away from you. He’s not watching from the sidelines—He’s stepping into the storm with you.
And when you look again, you’ll see what the disciples eventually saw—the One who walks on water is walking right beside you.
Take heart. It’s Him. And He’s looking out for you.
