The hundred miles of open water separates the most southern tip of Florida from the most northern coast of Cuba. It’s a stretch of water that has claimed hundreds of lives since the Cuban revolution. Flotillas of “boat people” seeking freedom and family in the US have created desperate “boats” out of anything that might possibly float long enough to reach US soil.

The goal of these “boat people” is simple: hit dry land. As long as these refugees are in the water, they are Cubans. As of 1995 the US has agreed either to return rescued or captured boat people back to Cuba or transport them to a neutral third country. But once these soggy sailors’ feet hit dry land they are instantly transformed. They have the right to stay in the US for at least a year. That qualifies them to get expedited “legal permanent resident” status and eventually even perhaps US citizenship. The moment a Cuban refugee has “dry feet,” a whole new future welcomes them.

The first disciples Jesus calls in Luke’s gospel are “dry feet” disciples. But they didn’t become dry-feet disciples until they were willing to be boat people.

They launched into deep water at Jesus’ command. Once out there they see and experience things over which they have no control. Things they know with their hearts and souls are sure evidence of God’s providence and sovereignty.

But their wet water witness brings them to a dry-foot transformation. The moment their boats hit the sand, Simon Peter, James, and John walk off the bow of their boats and leave them behind. The moment their feet become “dry feet,” they are transformed into disciples.

Instead of “hunters” or “fishers” they are transformed into caught-and-taught “gatherers” — “catching” living men and women with hope and love, offering them a new life with a new vision of God’s kingdom.

But here’s the catch: getting to the point of “dry feet” first requires a no-holds-barred launching into the deep. Most of the boats used to cross that great expanse of ocean between Cuba and the US aren’t very safe and aren’t very pretty. It first takes tremendous courage and conviction to get “wet” in order to get “dry.” Like the Hebrew people who passed through the Red Sea with the armies of Pharaoh in hot pursuit, they first had to pass “through the sea” to get to the “dry land” (Exodus 14:22). They were leap-of-faith/“through the sea” wet refugees before they were “dry land” Promised Land people.

Even the most skilled sailor knows there is no such thing as a guaranteed easy passage. Winds shift. Gales blow out of nowhere. Swells go from “choppy” to “cuisinart” in a matter of minutes. When the water, wind, and wave conditions get their dicey-est, sometimes the safest thing a savvy sailor can do is stop trying to control the ship’s every movement. Stow the sails, lighten the load, hold onto the bare essentials, and let the power of the sea and storm be the guiding force.

Sometimes all you can do is pray and trust God. You are no longer the captain of your ship or your fate. You realize you are no longer in control of your life.

One of the first lessons Jesus taught his first disciples was to give up their control to God and embrace an out-of-control discipleship.

Simon Peter, James, and John had a plan. They had a set schedule.

They fished at night.

They cleaned and repaired the nets in the morning.

They rested in the afternoon.

They spent evenings with their families.

They went back out to fish when night fell once again.

But no matter how neat their schedule, they had one big problem: they were catching no fish. Their schedule was full. But their nets, their coffers, their lives were empty.

When Jesus arrived at the edge of the water, he first messed up their morning, then “messed up” the rest of their lives. When Jesus instructed them to head out into deep water and lower their nets, his advice went against all they knew as fishermen. But within minutes their nets were filled to the bursting point. They had more of a catch than any of them had ever imagined possible.

Those full nets showed Simon Peter how empty was the rest of his life. God had more to offer than a set schedule of daily duties, a rote rutted routine that allowed for nothing exceptional, nothing extraordinary, nothing unexpected. When the kingdom of God washed over Simon Peter, James, and John, it nearly sank their boats. And it totally deep-sixed their illusions of control.

Instead of being a fisherman or an independent businessman, Simon suddenly saw who he really was: “I am a sinful man!” The only control Simon Peter wielded was the ability to let go, to fall on his knees, and to confess his humble humanity. The last step Simon, James, and John ever made on their own was that step off of their boats and onto dry land. Once they had “dry feet” their lives went totally out of control, because they turned their lives, their trust, their futures, over to Jesus. And they followed him.

Being “in control” has become an addiction, and not just for the Google generations. When was the last time you didn’t have some sort of “control” device in your hand or on your person. A remote. A cell phone. A Blackberry. A laptop. OnStar. Brinks. GPS. All are “controllers.”

Our digital kids are great at being controllers. They are growing up being the Directors of All things Digital. Give them a controller — for an Xbox or PS3, a mouse or remote for a flat screen on-line system, an internet connected cell phone with projector — and they can control their whole world.

Until they cannot.

What is the biggest thing keeping some of us from being full and authentic disciples of Jesus? We refuse to give up our control, or more accurately, our illusion of control. We are control junkies.

When the 7.0 earthquake hit Port-a-Prince it took down homes, it took down the capital building, it took down the cathedral. But the most devastating takedown was of the cell towers. The electronic grid that had enabled people to communicate with each other was suddenly gone. Everyone, everywhere, was suddenly out-of-touch, out-of-control, on their own.

When mudslides and drowning rains and hurricanes cascade upon unsuspecting communities, what is the biggest headache for emergency crews? People who won’t leave their homes for safety. People who refuse to evacuate areas judged to be in grave danger for killer avalanches or washouts. The people who stay think they are staying in charge of their property. They think they are keeping tabs on their “stuff.” They think they are guarding their “life.”

Control junkies think they can stare-down Mother Nature with some sandbags, a hose and a “plan.” Sure they are afraid of losing their homes, their incomes, their things. But the biggest fear is admitting they have lost control. Their lives are no longer in their own hands.

That is the biggest fear haunting a control junkie, letting go of the illusion that we can grasp and guide our own lives all by ourselves.

You say: I’m not a control freak. I’m not a control junkie.

Okay. Let’s see. Let’s put it to the test. How do you know if you are a control freak?

Here are seven signs, seven tip-offs, or you might even call them the “Seven Beatitudes” of a control junkie:

1. You are “large and in charge.” Always and at all times give the impression you are in control. Never evidence any feelings of inadequacy.

2. Be always right; try to look better and more right than others. Work harder than anyone else around you.

3. Take the credit whenever things do go according to plan. If something goes wrong or awry, it’s not your fault. Find a scapegoat and blame others.

4. You have learned not to trust others. You can only trust yourself.

5. Deny all negative feelings, fears and doubts. Keep on task. Suppress weaker emotions. Don’t admit your feelings or fears

6. Find the one right answer to every problem, and insist everyone follow your right answer.

7. Hold a grudge. Disputes are never resolved and healed; disagreements and fights can continue indefinitely.

Control freaks count on the power of their controllers the power of their intellect, the power of their powers, the power of their portfolios and securities -to give them everything they need to survive.

Disciples hand over whatever control they might have had to make way for the power of God, the power of faith, the power of the cross.

The Beatitudes Jesus offered were and are a manifesto for how to live “out of control lives.”

Blessed are the poor in spirit

Blessed are those who mourn

Blessed are the meek

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness

Blessed are the merciful

Blessed are the pure in heart

Blessed are the peacemakers

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake

Blessed are those who hand over their controllers.

Have you handed over yours? Can you tale your hands off the controls and pause for a minute? Can you see the fears and anxieties that are really driving you? Can you give up your control to God? Is Jesus the mascot of your life or the monarch of your life?

Can you trust and obey, for there is no other way, to be happy in Jesus, than to trust and obey?