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Welcome to Buoy, a Life in Deeper Water podcast.

Episode 101 Re-Release — I Woke Up Rowing Across the Ocean (originally published Jan 4 2023)

Hello human.

I woke up on Monday thinking about the poet who said something about not being able to cross the ocean with oars. I immediately looked it up on my phone before I even got out of bed. Later, I researched if anyone had ever done that very thing. Which instantaneously made this episode Part 1 of 2. Because I will have to share that story with you.

But not only because I love stories of bravery, stamina, and sheer athletic prowess. Oh, I do. But because that story is about the ocean I am crossing. The ocean you are crossing.

On Monday I woke up thinking about rowing, one oar over the other, because I felt the waves of my resolution beginning to overtake me, so I began to row faster. The only boat I could picture was a weathered rowboat from childhood.

My witness resolution began in October, so I have been on my water trek for a while.  I have found that when I lay my plan over God’s plan, I start rowing faster, as if to overtake Him. To get out ahead of the goodness He brings. What?

On Monday I woke up with the intent to row faster, to overtake the pending high-jacking of my resolution by the social media world — the info-dumps, the overbranded Christian talkery, the borrowed quotes used as mic-drop moments, the, the, the.

And I thought, you will be coming into a storm in your spiritual resolution… maybe one is already darkening your horizon, and the waves are ascending. Maybe not. Maybe it is smooth sailing, sun-on-water kind of thing, so far.

But see, this oar image started rolling over itself in my head, it started on Monday—oar over oar, cutting through the water by my own will, veering right, then left of God’s divine persuasion.

So, what was that oar reference I started Monday with trying to remember?

Human Frailty at its Finest

William Cowper (Cooper) was an English poet and Anglican hymnwriter. One of the most popular poets of his time, Cowper changed the direction of 18th-century nature poetry by writing of everyday life and scenes of the English countryside. Seen as perhaps one of the forerunners of Romantic poetry. Samuel Taylor Coleridge called him “the best modern poet”…

It was said that evangelical Christianity, better known to some, better known to me as God, saved Cowper. God saved him from a life in and out of what in his day was called “lunacy.” A brilliant, depressed, melancholic man. Prolific poet, hymnist, translator. Friends with John Newton, the man who wrote “Amazing Grace”, Cowper co-authored a book of hymns at Newton’s request, contributing 68 of the hymns within. Cowper’s life is worth your research, if only a minute or two.

I am not a poet. Nor do I sit around pondering blank verse, pentameters, and haikus. Poetry is often image laden. I get lost early on. But in all my ongoing ocean research a fully populated ship of authors, poets, historical voices, land on my mental shore with salt-air sentiments to wisen me. Like Cowper.

He wrote a poem called Human Frailty, amongst many others.

He ended this poem with my oars image. He said it before me.

Human Frailty

By William Cowper

Weak and irresolute is man;

The purpose of to-day,

Woven with pains into his plan,

To-morrow rends away.

The bow well bent, and smart the spring,

Vice seems already slain;

But passion rudely snaps the string,

And it revives again.

Some foe to his upright intent

Finds out his weaker part;

Virtue engages his assent,

But Pleasure wins his heart.

‘Tis here the folly of the wise

Through all his art we view;

And, while his tongue the charge denies,

His conscience owns it true.

Bound on a voyage of awful length

And dangers little known,

A stranger to superior strength,

Man vainly trusts his own.

But oars alone can ne’er prevail

To reach the distant coast;

The breath of Heaven must swell the sail,

Or all the toil is lost.

I am sure that this man did his share of Monday rowing to reach his “distant coast.” His journey taught him that God must swell the sail, or all is lost.

The breath of God.  Psalm 33:6,

By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth.

But did I tell you, on Monday I woke up mentally rowing as if I was making a solo trip across the Atlantic on my childhood rowboat. I hadn’t lost my commitment. I wasn’t depressed. Or discouraged.

I was rowing with the intent to accelerate. I felt myself losing ground. And the waves seemed higher on Monday… when I woke up. Yet Cowper said it takes the breath of Heaven to fill my sail, my resolution.

Jesus, Oars, and the Water Walk

So, what does Jesus say about oars, and rowing? Picture that Jesus had just finished feeding five thousand people and told the disciples to get on the boat and set out across the Sea of Galilee. Jesus stayed with the crowd as the disciples departed land.

The Sea of Galilee is in northern Israel, and one of the lowest lakes on earth. It extends 13 miles from north to south and 7 miles from east to west. The Jordan River flows through it, on its way to the Dead Sea. Cold air rushing down from the sharply rising hills surrounding it meets the warm air rising from the water could easily result in sudden and violent storms. The western shores of the Sea of Galilee are about 12 to 15 miles from Nazareth, where Jesus spent His boyhood years.

Mark 6:45-51

45 Immediately Jesus made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to Bethsida (Bethsaida), while he dismissed the crowd. 46 After leaving them, he went up on a mountainside to pray.

47 Later that night, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. 48 He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them. Shortly before dawn he went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, 49 but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, 50 because they all saw him and were terrified.

Immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” 51 Then he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed.

• The disciples were in the middle of the lake.
• Jesus was alone on land, praying.
• He saw them straining at the oars.
• Before dawn, nautical twilight, He went to them.
• First, they thought He was a ghost.
• He got in the boat, and the wind died down.
• They were completely amazed.

I know Jesus sees me straining at the oars. He has not left me alone with my witness resolution. He has not left you alone with your resolution.

On Monday I Woke Up Rowing

But on Monday, I woke up rowing.

David knew God’s ever-present nature long before the disciples got in that boat without Jesus. Long before they didn’t recognize Jesus. Were amazed by Jesus.

David’s proclamation assures me.

Psalm 46:1-3

1 God is our refuge and strength,

    an ever-present help in trouble.

2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

3 though its waters roar and foam

    and the mountains quake with their surging.

To be clear, on Monday I woke up rowing… and it would make sense that I would read these verses from Psalm 46 and quit turning one mental oarstroke over another. Oarstroke over oarstroke. Slower, slower, slow. That I would stop rowing when I see Jesus walking toward me on the water, that I would stop rowing on my own mental power. That I would watch Him come onto my boat and calm the winds.

And that I would assure you that you can’t cross your “Sea of Human” with oars. It’s not a solo act.

But it wouldn’t be true. Episode 15.