A Devotional as Review for the Sermon--> "When Jesus Comes Walking"
- mpenman31
- 6 days ago
- 5 min read
Scripture Focus: John 6:16–20
There are some storms we can explain. We can name the wind. We can describe the waves. We can tell people what happened, when it happened, and how badly it hurt. We can point to the diagnosis, the phone call, the disappointment, the grief, the family concern, the ministry burden, the financial strain, the long season of waiting.
But beneath the storm there is often a deeper question.
Not simply, how bad is this?
Not simply, how long will this last?
Not even simply, how do I get through it?
The question underneath the storm is often:
Where is God while I am in this?
In John 6:16–20, the disciples find themselves in the dark, on the sea, with the wind rising against them. They are not where they started, but they are not yet where they are going. They are in the middle. And the middle can be its own kind of terror.
The beginning often has energy. There is adrenaline, momentum, and the fragile courage that comes with starting. The end, once we arrive there, may give us testimony. But the middle is different. The middle is where strength gets tested. The middle is where the shoreline fades behind us and the destination is still too far ahead. The middle is where fear starts whispering that nothing will change, that God has forgotten, that there may not be another side.
The disciples are rowing in the dark. Jesus has not yet come to them.
That phrase can feel painfully familiar: not yet.
A prayer not yet answered.
A wound not yet healed.
A relationship not yet restored.
A door not yet opened.
A promise not yet fulfilled.
A peace not yet settled in the soul.
But the “not yet” of God is not the same as abandonment. Jesus had not yet appeared to them, but Jesus had not forgotten them. He had not stopped seeing them. He had not stopped being Lord. The darkness was real, but it was not the whole truth.
So often, spiritual darkness changes how we interpret reality. The road may still be there, but the fog makes us grip the wheel tighter. The destination may still be ahead, but our limited vision makes us anxious. God may still be near, but because we cannot see clearly, we begin to believe we have been left alone.
This is one of the quiet dangers of fear. Fear does not merely describe the storm. Fear tries to become the lens through which we see everything. Fear tells us that the darkness is final. Fear tells us that the waves are ultimate. Fear tells us that because Jesus has not come the way we expected, Jesus must not be coming at all.
But then, in the middle of the sea, in the middle of the wind, in the middle of their fear, the disciples see Jesus walking toward them.
And strangely, they are afraid.
That, too, tells the truth about us. Sometimes what God is doing does not immediately comfort us because we do not yet understand it. Sometimes revelation unsettles us before it strengthens us. Sometimes Jesus comes in ways we did not expect, from directions we were not watching, in places we did not believe he would show up.
The disciples thought the problem was the storm. They thought the problem was the darkness. They thought the problem was the sea. But John shows us that the deeper issue was vision. They did not yet understand who was walking toward them.
Then Jesus speaks:
“It is I; do not be afraid.”
Those words are not merely identification. They are revelation. Jesus does not simply say, “It’s me.” He reveals himself as the One who carries the name and presence of God. The Great I AM is walking toward them in the storm.
Notice what Jesus does not say.
He does not say, “Do not be afraid because the storm is already over.”
He does not say, “Do not be afraid because the wind has stopped.”
He does not say, “Do not be afraid because the waves have disappeared.”
He does not say, “Do not be afraid because your circumstances have finally improved.”
He says, in essence:
Do not be afraid because I AM is here.
That is the heart of the devotional truth. The answer to fear is not always a changed circumstance. Sometimes the answer to fear is a clearer revelation of Christ’s presence.
This does not mean the storm is imaginary. It does not mean the darkness is harmless. It does not mean our fear is foolish or faithless. The storm is real. The darkness is real. The fear is real.
But none of them are the center of the story.
Jesus is.
The peace Christ gives is not shallow optimism. It is not pretending everything is fine. It is not spiritual self-confidence dressed up in church language. Christian courage is not built on our ability to predict tomorrow. It is built on the presence of the One who walks toward us today.
There are seasons when God may not immediately calm the sea. God may not immediately answer the question. God may not explain every mystery. God may not remove every burden as quickly as we wish.
But God comes closer.
Grace keeps showing up.
Mercy keeps meeting us in the middle.
Strength keeps arriving day by day.
Christ keeps walking toward us through what we thought might drown us.
And sometimes the miracle is not that the storm stops. Sometimes the miracle is that we discover we are not alone in it.
You may still be in the middle. You may still be rowing against wind. You may still be surrounded by questions you cannot answer. You may still be trying to see through the fog. You may still be carrying something that has gone on longer than you expected.
But the darkness is not proof that Jesus is absent.
It may be the very place where Christ is about to reveal himself more deeply.
So, look again.
Not just at the waves.
Not just at the wind.
Not just at the darkness.
Not just at your fear.
Look for the One walking toward you.
The Great I AM is present in the storm.
The Great I AM is present in the middle.
The Great I AM is present before the answer comes.
The Great I AM is present before the sea is calm.
The Great I AM is present even now.
And because Christ is present, fear does not get the final word.
Reflection Questions
Where in your life do you feel like you are “in the middle,” too far from where you started but not yet where you hoped to be? What emotions rise in you when you admit that honestly?
What “not yet” are you currently living with: a prayer not yet answered, a grief not yet healed, a decision not yet clear, a relationship not yet restored, or a promise not yet fulfilled? How has that “not yet” shaped the way you see God?
When fear rises in you, what story does it try to tell about your life, your future, or God’s presence? How might Christ be inviting you to challenge that story?
Have you ever mistaken God’s hiddenness for God’s absence? What would it mean to believe that Jesus may still be walking toward you even before you can clearly recognize him?
What would change in your daily life if your courage were rooted less in improved circumstances and more in the presence of the Great I AM with you in the storm?
Wonderful sermon. I feels as though the series of sermons this year are meant directly for me. There has been so many storms over this year and they seem to be continuing. I am processing my steps cautiously especially if I can’t feel the presence of the God. I’m pressing on with faith that He is and He will show up.