“Immediately Jesus spoke to them. ‘Have courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.’” (Matthew 14:27 CSB)
Devotional
Have you ever been so afraid that you could not even tell if what you were seeing was real or your fear playing tricks on you?
That is exactly where the disciples are in this moment. They are out on the water in the middle of the night, fighting a storm that has already been battering their boat for hours, and then they see a figure walking toward them across the waves. Their first response is not relief. It is terror. They assume it is a ghost, because in that moment, in that storm, a ghost actually makes more sense to them than the truth.
And into that confusion, Jesus does not lead with an explanation or a rebuke for their fear. He leads with identity. Have courage. It is I. Don’t be afraid. Three short phrases, and the middle one is the hinge everything else hangs on. It is I. Before he calms anything else, he tells them who is actually there with them.
I think that is worth noticing, because most of us, in our own storms, want the circumstance to change first. We want the wind to stop before we can feel safe. But Jesus often does the opposite. He identifies himself in the middle of the chaos before the chaos itself resolves. The storm in this story does not stop until later, after this conversation. The disciples are asked to find their courage while the wind is still blowing, simply because they now know who is walking toward them.
That is not a small thing to ask, and I do not think Jesus is unaware of that. He does not say the storm is not real or that their fear is silly. He simply gives them something steadier to hold onto than the waves, himself, present, walking straight toward them instead of waiting somewhere calm for the water to settle.
Reflection
I want the storm to end before I feel brave, but this verse suggests courage can start the moment I recognise who is actually with me in it. I do not always trust that Jesus is close when things are still chaotic. I want to remember that he speaks into the middle of the storm, not just after it.
Prayer
Father, thank you for coming to us in the middle of our storms instead of waiting for them to pass first. Help us recognise your voice when fear makes everything else look uncertain. Give us courage that does not depend on the wind dying down. Remind us today that you are close, even when the water still feels rough.