I am not, but I AM is

So I realize that I’ve been slacking hardcore, and I want to apologize. I have however been working on my thoughts on Peter so I thought I’d give another installment.

“Now in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went to them walking on the sea. And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were troubled saying “It is a ghost!” And they cried out for fear. But Immediately Jesus spoke to them saying “Be of good cheer it is I; do not be afraid.”

The fourth watch of the night is someplace between 3:00 AM and 6:00 AM. If the feeding of the 5000 had happened around 6:00 PM the evening before, the disciples had been rowing for perhaps six to nine hours! The had to have been totally exhausted, for they had rowed “many furlongs” away from the land (each furlong is about 2 football fields) and still had much to row. And then out of nowhere an apparition starts moving its way across the water towards them. And the passage says “and they were troubled.”


I can remember my first “horror flick.” I was 16 years old and a group of us wanted to watch Scream. It was the big hit that year and anyone that was anyone was watching it. Yes I realize that I wasn’t 17 yet, and yes I realize I had been forbidden to watch these types of movies, and especially if I was not yet of age. So with much guilt, yet excitement, we turned it on. The first scene is still burned into my brain: the girl making popcorn, the phone rings, that raspy voice asking “what’s your favorite horror movie.”

I even remember that I was laying on the top part of the couch because there wasn’t enough space to go around. Slowly the plot started to weave its way through, mystery here-murder there, slow scary music sprinkled as appropriate. Each of us only left the room to grab a quick Mountain Dew, or to release one we had partaken of earlier in the evening. Suddenly, the movie took a turn, the girl was running away, the killer hot in pursuit, the music starts to climax and there is a knock on the window beside me!!!

I scream; flip off of the couch (busting my lip and bruising my arm) and take off up the stairs (typical scary movie move, going upstairs when I should be going out the front door). Now we all know what happened … I don’t even have to tell you, one of the guys thought it would be funny to scare the others. However, for the rest of the night I was convinced that there was something out there. My brain started playing tricks on me. Every movement was a killer, every sound a monster, every light a threat to my very existence.


That, I believe, is the state of the disciples as we enter into this part of the passage. They are tired, their arms are hurting, their minds are weary, and they look to see something walking towards them. They were more than troubled. They were petrified, horrified, stupefied, any other “--fied” that means freaking out! As if their problem of the storm wasn’t bad enough there is a ghost out to get them. And then come these words …

“It is I; do not be afraid.” Or perhaps translated “I AM!” This was more than just a simple “Hello” this was a declaration that God had come upon the scene.

We can go back to Ex 3:11-17. Moses is about to lead the children of Israel out of Egypt and he asks God what He is to tell the people when asked “what is the name of this God?” And God responds “I AM WHO I AM.” You will tell them “I AM has sent me to you.” Once again a declaration has been made. This name is wrapped around the verb “to be”. The “present one” the one “who is.” What an exhilarating thought to the Israelites, their GOD is present! Even in Egypt “He is!” Even at their low times, their tough times, their times of fear and persecution “He is.” And at the times that we are not strong enough “I AM is.” And when things are going crazy and we don’t know who is in control “I AM”. When waves are crashing down on us and our boat is being tipped and we don’t know who is strong enough to keep us moving forward, “I am not, but I AM is!”

So Christ walks out, the very problems that seemed over their head were now laying at his feet. Those monstrous waves looked little more than a kiddie pool. The wind was nothing more than a soft breath. For God had shown up. Life is not easy, especially when things get out of control and I’m at my lowest points, and I don’t know who can help. I have found that I cannot … but I AM can.

Going against the wind

Therefore, the disciples continue to push forward. As the waves get higher, and the wind move with increasing force they start to get nervous. What did this Jesus character expect from them? Sure many of them were fishermen, and had grown up rowing on this sea, but none of them had seen a gale quite like this.

Then they become a bit hesitant, even doubting why they were out here. Why could they not just turn around and head back? Jesus was still back on the shore. Then this realization hits them “how is he going to get on the other side?” They start to discuss things amongst themselves. “Did he really just feed all of those people?” Then doubt creeps in “maybe he wanted us to stay on the shore and wait for him.”

Yes, the disciples were rowing against the wind. They were struggling against the current. They were going against the grain. And it was hard. If it was hard to fulfill God’s purpose then, why do we expect it to be any different? I will never promise anyone that the center of God’s will is the easiest, or even the safest place to be, but I will ALWAYS promise that it is the best place.

When I think of going against the grain, I think of my little sister Heather. Heather is two years younger, and a foot and a quarter shorter than I am. However, what she lacks in age or size, she makes up in pure determination. You see Heather was born with Down’s syndrome, and she had to fight for whatever she accomplished. If I had half of the drive or will of my sister, I would have been the best athlete my town had ever seen, and probably have been the valedictorian of my class. She graduated High School taking normal classes, and then graduated from a vocational school, focused in childcare. She knows what rowing against the wind is all about.

At a Junior High camp I was a counselor at, someone came up with the brilliant idea to take 210 junior high kids canoeing. Then another genius decided to put me in charge of the safety of these students. I and another counselor were to stay in the back of the pack and make sure each camper made it safely to the end of the creek. Heather got the easy job. She sat in the middle of the canoe, took of her shoes, and let her feet drag in the water.

Everything was going swimmingly until I looked up and saw a stalled canoe, inhabited by two very blonde, much uncoordinated, junior high girls. To clarify I am not trying to be mean, I am only stating the facts. If anyone has ever attended, or bless your heart, coached a junior high girl’s basketball game, you understand what I mean. They trip over the foul line, stop to tie their shoes in the middle of a drive, throw passes into the stands, and throw up hideous, borderline sinful, shots. It is not their fault, I know, their coordination has yet to catch up with their bodies, however, it is what it is.
As I stated before these particular girls were stalled in their canoe. It was stuck upon a large rock, and despite their best attempts, it was not moving. They had finally resorted to standing in the canoe, and trying to push off the rock at the same time. Now anyone who has taken High School science (which these girls obviously had not) is aware of Newton’s laws of physics. One of these goes something like this: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. So the girls pushed, the canoe tipped, and both were flung into the water.

Now I was not thrilled with this particular action, because I knew I was responsible for the well-being of these now very wet students. I did not want to jump in. The water was cold, and I had jeans on. If anyone has ever had on wet jeans, you understand why I was not eager to take the plunge. As I was contemplating my plan of action, the other counselor had already dived in, and was swimming towards the girls. Now I was not only going to be wet, but I was going to be wet and look like a jerk. I took of my shoes and socks, and jumped in.

As I reached the girl, I realized she had herself in quite the predicament. While she had a life jacket on, it was not serving her very well. You see she was reaching for each of her shoes, which were floating in opposite direction, and as she was reaching, her head was being pushed down into the water. THIS GIRL WAS GOING TO DROWN WITH A LIFE JACKET ON! I immediately grabbed the shoes, since they were apparently more important than life to her, and then proceeded to help her back to the shore.
At this point, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Pin an S on my chest and call me super counselor I thought. I wanted to be able to share my victory with someone so I turned to where I had left heather and the canoe with a huge smile on my face. That smile was quickly replaced with a look of distress because neither Heather nor the canoe was there. I had apparently forgotten some of my High School science classes as well, because the current had taken heather straight towards the rapids. As I looked up I saw her standing on the back part of the boat, paddle in hand screaming “BUUUBBBBYYYYYYY, WHEN I GET HOOOOMMMMEEEEEE, I’M TELLING MOOOOOOOMMMMM.”

Heather knows what it is like to swim against the current. She knows what it is like paddle against the waves. She knows what it is like to go against the grain. As Christians, we have to realize that we are going against the grain. The world is going to hate us. The Devil is going to fight us. Things are not going to be easy. To be stripped of the selfish worldly mindset, and to embody a Christ-like one, is hard. It takes work, and it takes the realization that we are going against everything the world is for. To accomplish the goal that Christ has set for us, we must be willing to paddle against the wind. I will never promise anyone that the center of God’s will is the easiest, or even the safest place to be, but I will ALWAYS promise that it is the best place.

Pursuing the Call

This is a small part of a chapter of a small book that I have considered writing. I don't know that it will ever get done ... but I'd like your thoughts anyway. I may post more in the days to come ... or I may not.



After feeding the crowds, Jesus sends the disciples out on the sea while he goes up to pray, alone, as he has become accustomed to do. Suddenly the winds become contrary, and the fishing boat is tossed about on the now restless water. The account in Matthew tells us it was the “fourth watch” meaning it is somewhere between three and six o’clock in the morning. Assuming Jesus fed the crowds even as late as eight or nine o’clock the previous evening, these committed followers had been rowing for five, six, even seven hours.

They must have been getting tired. Their arms were starting to get weary; the rain had left them soaking wet; the wind was cutting, stinging their face; and the water was splashing up into the boat. To say this was not an ideal boating experience would be a gross understatement. However, they knew that Christ had sent them. Their Lord, their rabbi, had told them to get into the boat and go to the other side before him, and that was precisely what they were going to do.
I have heard too many well meaning Christians say, “The door opened so it must have been God’s will.” Conversely, most of us, myself included, have said, “The door closed, so it must not have been God’s will for me.” These disciples were battered, wet, and tired, but they were answering the command that Christ had put upon them, closed doors and all.

I am reminded of a time when a bird got loose in my church. I was walking through the darkened sanctuary early one morning. I had finished praying for individuals in the church, and my friends who were still back at college, and I was just calling one of them to see how he was doing. It was dark and peaceful, just how I like my mornings. When suddenly from the ceiling flew down a dark mysterious creature. It was coming right at my head. Now I am not too masculine to admit I screamed. Perhaps screamed is not the right word … I shrieked. I shrieked like a pre-adolescent girl whose older brothers were torturing her favorite doll.
Now I was hoping that this shrill eardrum busting sound would somehow deter or at least distract my new adversary. Unfortunately, this was not the case. This suicidal kamikaze-ing dive-bomber was preparing for his next attack. He swooped once more and disappeared out of one of the side doors.
At precisely this moment, the church secretary walked calmly into the sanctuary. I laid down the hymnal that I had picked up, my weapon of choice, picked up my cell phone, which I had dropped during battle, and adjusted my clothing, which had been wrinkled during my drop to the floor, mid-shriek.
“Aaron,” she proclaimed with a slight hint of indignation in her voice, “there is a bird in the church!”
“NO?!” I replied with mock shock, “well thank you for that wonderful news update.”
After that lovely exchange I stormed off, hymnal in hand, looking for my arch nemesis. And I found him, oh yes I found him, perched upon one of the doors to the outside. However, in the light he did not look nearly as menacing or dangerous. You see, he had been slamming himself against the glass doors for what appeared to be a long time. He was battered, bloody, and tired. When he saw me coming, with my hymnal of mass destruction, he started banging again, almost tirelessly against the clear pane.
I got the key walked to the door, and opened it. Then I looked to find the bird had disappeared. I did not see him fly out of the door, nor did I see him fly down the hallway, whatever the case may be he was gone. Throughout the next few days, we searched for the bird. We even brought in a black lab to try to sniff him out. Nonetheless, all of our searches were in vain; we never did find the bird. Somehow, my rival had gotten out.

You see the bird knew his goal. He was not supposed to be in the church, he was supposed to be outside, and he was not going to let anything, be it windows, glass doors, or crazy hymnal wielding pastors, stop him fro getting out.
That, my friends, that is how one ought to respond to the directions of God. If I am called to do something, I do it, and I do it with reckless abandon. If a door shuts, yet I know I am led that direction, I slam against it until it opens, or I merely find another way out. Giving up is never an option. Whether like the bird I am battered and bloody, or like the disciples, I am wet and exhausted I must press on towards the call that Christ had laid upon me.