Immediately Jesus reached out his hand, caught hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt? ” Matthew 14:31
The camp director had assured us that we would be safe walking to our cabins. I had tried to believe him. I wanted to believe him.
In my thirties I landed a sales job I loved. As a penny-pinching man, my boss had decided to hold our sales conference at a remote camp facility instead of a fancy des- tination. I’m sure this would have been a perfect spot for high school kids’ experiences or even couples’ retreats, but when it came to business meetings, I preferred real hotels with ultra-high-speed internet connections, hot water, and elevators. Call me a business-meeting snob, but this was the way I fancied overnight off-site gatherings.
On the first night, following the opening sales presentation, the camp director paid us a visit. He seemed confident and professional. He had outlined several “features” of this special place, including, “We’re more than one hundred miles from the nearest hospital.” Nice feature. But he assured us that we were “safe out here.” Didn’t I remember reading the same quote from the steward’s log on the Titanic?
Anyway, after our meetings concluded at day’s end, I had to walk the hundred yards or so back to my cabin. When I stepped outside, I was gripped by the darkness. We were in deep woods, and there was no moon. There were no lights, and a soft rain was falling. I’ve watched too much television for this to be any fun at all, I silently mused.
I gingerly started walking down the path, one careful step after another. Suddenly I realized that I wasn’t alone. I don’t remember what led me to believe this; it may have been a sound. Or a smell. All I knew was that it was just something. I stood silently, frozen by the thought of the perilous possibilities. Then, ever so slowly, I reached my hand forward trying to determine what this might be.
My cold trembling hand, straight out from my shoulder, met a warm, wet coat of fur. Thank goodness for a change of underwear back in the cabin.
Unbeknown to me, one of the “features” the camp director had left out was a riding stable, complete with friendly old swayback horses who roamed the grounds, untethered. Thanks for the warning, my hundred-miles-from-medical-help friend.
Fear can be horrible and debilitating. It can create self-doubt and dread. It can rob us of any of life’s pleasures. Fear can freeze us in our tracks.
Jesus’s disciples were in a small boat, miles from shore. The wind was blowing with gale-force velocity, and even though these men were seasoned fishermen, they were scared. Jesus’s previous assurances of His faithful presence with them weren’t enough.
And then they looked up and saw someone walking on the sea. This frightened them even more. But Jesus called to them, “Have courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid” (v. 27). Soon He stepped into their boat, and the winds were silenced. The disciples’ fear also subsided. Can you imagine how powerful this moment must have been?
Are you afraid? Has the reality of your responsibilities, surrounded by the ominous dark of the unknown, gotten the best of you?
The message of the Savior is clear. “Of course, you can’t see. Of course, you don’t know what lies ahead. But you have My promise. Reach out. Take courage. Don’t be afraid. It’s Me.”
Finally, a camp director we can trust.