The end of a week can feel like rowing into the wind. You’ve pulled hard since Monday, and somehow the shore doesn’t look any closer than when you started. Maybe it’s work, or a worry about someone you love, or just a tiredness that has settled into your bones. Friday evening comes, and you’re still out in the middle of the water.
Matthew tells about a night exactly like that.
“And when he had sent the multitudes away, he went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, he was there alone. But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed with waves: for the wind was contrary.” (Matthew 14:23–24, KJV)
He was praying while they were rowing
Notice where Jesus is while the disciples struggle. He isn’t absent and He isn’t careless. He is on the mountain, praying. Mark’s Gospel adds that He saw them toiling in rowing (Mark 6:48). The whole time they were straining at the oars, thinking they were on their own, He had His eyes on them.
That’s worth holding onto tonight. The hours when you feel most alone may be the very hours He is watching most closely, and praying for you.
The fourth watch
“And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea.” (Matthew 14:25, KJV)
The fourth watch is somewhere between three and six in the morning. The darkest, coldest stretch, when you’ve been awake so long that hope starts to feel foolish. They had been rowing for hours. And that is when He came.
He doesn’t always come when we would choose. But He comes. And He comes walking on the very thing they were afraid of. The waves that threatened them were simply the road He used to reach them.
At first they didn’t even recognize Him. “It is a spirit,” they cried. Sometimes help arrives looking like one more thing to be scared of. So Jesus speaks before they can sink any further into panic:
“Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid.” (Matthew 14:27, KJV)
He doesn’t explain the storm first. He doesn’t give a lecture on the weather. He gives them Himself. It is I. That’s the whole comfort. Not “the wind will stop,” but “I am here.”
Lord, save me
Then Peter, bold and impulsive Peter, asks to come out on the water. Jesus says one word: “Come.” And for a few steps Peter does the impossible. Then he looks at the wind, and he starts to go down.
“And beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him.” (Matthew 14:30–31, KJV)
Three words. That’s the whole prayer. No eloquence, no confidence, just a sinking man calling out the only name that could help. And Jesus answers immediately. Not after Peter gets his faith sorted out. Not after he swims back to the boat on his own. The hand was there at once.
Jesus does say, “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” But hear it from a man who is already holding Peter up out of the water. It isn’t rejection. It’s a friend, arm around his shoulder, walking him back to the boat.
“And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased.” (Matthew 14:32, KJV)
For tonight
If you’ve been rowing against the wind all week, you can put the oars down for a moment. He has seen every pull.
If you’re scared of what’s coming, listen for His voice under the noise: It is I; be not afraid.
And if you feel yourself sinking, you don’t need a long prayer. “Lord, save me” is enough. His hand is closer than the water.
“When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.” (Isaiah 43:2, KJV)
Rest well tonight. The One who walks on storms is not far from your boat.