đ„ THE BRIEFING
Iâm going to apologize ahead of time to my mother, as I donât know if she has ever heard this story, but in 2012 I was almost swept overboard while sailing across the Atlantic Ocean.
Much like my grandfather, and father, I do happen to have a tendency of embellishing stories. Blame genetics, or blame summer going to a Southern Baptist Church in Northeast Georgia. Regardless of cause, I believe this ordeal is pretty close to being accurate.
The summer of 2012, having just graduated high school a few weeks prior, I boarded a plane for NYC. At JFK I connected with some of the other crew and jetted off to St. George Bermuda. Our planned home for the next 40 days was a 112 foot traditionally rigged schooner. I was 1 of 30 members of the crew that was about to embark on a transatlantic passage from Bermuda to Rome.
We spent a day or two in Bermuda as we waited for favorable weather to depart. Leave too soon there might be too much wind, leave too late and the weather system might leave you in the dust.
Both happened to us.
We departed in the afternoon. Quick phone call home to let my mom know that we were heading out and that we expected to be sighting land in the Azores in about a week or so⊠we organized ourselves into 3 watch teams with 2 staff crew per watch, the skipper taking the mermaid watch mid day so that we could sit in our marine biology class and eat lunch.
We left with the attempt to time the weather, and instead found ourselves violently seasick as the wind caught us. While the actual weather was more tame a squall, or micro storm, caught us in its crosshairs with gust of 60mph and rolling waves in the 10-20 foot mark by best guess. Even though the sun had not yet set it was pitch black out.
When underway on one of these ships you clip into these lifelines that run along the deck, much like rock climbing you clip into the next before undoing the one prior to move about, and I was about to move.
Over the whistling of the wind across the lines, and the crashing of waves on deck, the environment was deafening, but the call to action was clear that I was to help secure a governor to the main boom to prevent an accidental jibe. To save you the sailing lesson, myself and others needed to secure a thick rope to the sail to prevent it crossing midline of the ship, violently, and wreaking massive damage.
As I unclipped from the life line to move to the chart house, I for some reason laid flat on the chart house roof, I have zero recollection why I did that, but in that second between unclipping and moving to the rail clipping (the one place on board you couldnât reach without unclipping first), the boom swung across the deck crashing to the other side.
One second sooner, or had I not leaned over, that massive piece of steel wouldâve rocketed me off that deck into the cold Atlantic.
I didnât have a strong faith in 2012, and truthfully even now I would be terrified in that moment. Truthfully⊠if I had looked up and saw someone walking on the water I probably wouldâve fainted.
This story comes right after the feeding of the 5,000 in 3 of the 4 gospels, and the comment in verse 19 leads me to believe there was a eyewitness report aspect here. I think John here is showing us that not only the disciples saw and experience this but the crowd in following verses also noticed what had occurred.
This story, and my own personal story, remind us that we donât know when a storm is going to arise in our lives. We donât know when the wind is going to whip up, when the waves are going to begin crashing over the sides to swamp us.
Being of the flesh I bet we donât acknowledge the presence with us, and in us, as we struggle through, much like the lifeline I was tethered to, it was only after the fact that I was aware of the security I had.
The sooner we realize during choppy waters that our life is secure, the sooner we realize we are already in a safe harbor.
đïž THE CORNER TALK
âWhen they had rowed about three or four miles...â
Oddly specific, and not specific at the same time.
Like we saying my record bass was 10-11 poundsâŠ
Thatâs not the kind of detail you include unless you were actually there, counting strokes, checking the shoreline, measuring how far youâd gotten.
Johnâs giving us an eyewitness account. Heâs saying âI remember exactly where we were when this happened.â
Three or four miles meant they were in the middle of the Sea of Galilee. Halfway between where Jesus sent them and where they needed to land.
Jesus didnât wait until they were close to shore to show up. He met them in the middle, when they were exhausted and had no way out.
Thatâs the detail John wanted us to catch: Jesus shows up in the middle of your storm, not after it.
đ„ THE FIGHT PLAN
THE CORNER TALK
John 6:19 is oddly specific: âWhen they had rowed about three or four miles...â
Thatâs not the kind of detail you include unless you were actually there, counting strokes, checking the shoreline, measuring how far youâd gotten.
Johnâs giving us an eyewitness account. Heâs saying âI remember exactly where we were when this happened.â
Three or four miles meant they were in the middle of the Sea of Galilee. Halfway between where Jesus sent them and where they needed to land.
Jesus didnât wait until they were close to shore to show up. He met them in the middle, when they were exhausted and had no way out.
Thatâs the detail John wanted us to catch: Jesus shows up in the middle of your storm, not after it.
THE FIGHT PLAN
This weekâs drill: Name the middle.
Every morning, write down one area where youâre âthree or four miles out,â stuck between where you started and where you need to be.
The job situation that wonât resolve. The marriage tension that wonât break. The kidâs struggle that wonât improve. The financial pressure that wonât ease.
Donât try to fix it. Donât create a five-step plan. Just acknowledge: âIâm in the middle of this, and I canât row my way out.â
Then pray: âJesus, Iâm scanning the horizon for you here.â
Thatâs it. Recognition before resolution. Youâre not waiting for the storm to calm before you acknowledge Heâs present. Youâre training yourself to see Him in the middle of it.
đ€ THE HUDDLE
The disciples were never alone in that boat, even when they felt abandoned. They were rowing toward where Jesus had already sent them, and He was coming to meet them exactly where they were.
Youâre not rowing solo either. The exhaustion is real, the waves are real, but so is His presence in the middle of it.
You donât have to explain. We get it. And sometimes just naming it reminds you that youâre not the only one still rowing, all that matters is that you donât stop. Heâs going to meet you at the point you need Him too.
In your corner,
Chance