Water
It's weird to feel water under your feet. I mean, I've had water under my feet before...when I'm bathing. I've been in boats all my life, where only a thin board separated me from the water. But that's nothing like what happened last night. Water under my feet...because I was walking on it.
It began when Jesus sent us across the lake, and, as often happens, a storm came up on the lake. It's not that we had never encountered storms. We knew what to do, most of us anyway, and how to sail so that the boat would go with the wind and not against it. We knew the practices that were the best hope for surviving one of these squalls on the lake. But none of that was working this night, and we began to be afraid that we might just sink. Years on this lake—all my life, really—and it just might come down to this storm.
James saw him first. "What's that?" James shouted, and I turned to look. "The better question," Thaddeus said, "is WHO is that?" I squinted to see through the driving rain. "You think it's a person?" Judas asked. "If it is," Matthew said, "it's got to be a ghost. How else would they get this far out on the lake?"
Still, I squinted through the wind and the rain. As he got closer, I could see exactly who it was. "It's the Lord!" I shouted out. Matthew joined me at the side of the boat. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Lord," I called out, trying to get my voice over the noise of the storm, "is that you? If it is, call me to come to you on the waves." And then, after a moment, I heard a single word: "Come."
I didn't really think about it, and that's probably a good thing. Had I thought about what I was about to do, I would have talked myself out of it. Instead, I just obeyed what he said and I stepped over the edge of the boat. Crazy, yes, I know. But it's what I did. And that's when I felt the water under my feet. Weird feeling, as I said, especially when a fish swam up and nibbled on my big toe. I must not have tasted good, because he swam away pretty quickly.
You know, with the wind and the waves going crazy around me, I should have been scared. But I wasn't. I just keep looking at Jesus and walking toward him. Then the thunder hit. A loud, booming clap of thunder. Then I glanced at the sky, and that's when I got scared. That's when I began to sink. I yelled out as loud as I could the only thing I could think to say, "Lord, save me!"
And he did. He always does. Every time I've called out to him, he's rescued me. And then he helps me back in the boat—literally this time, and other times, more figuratively. But he's always there, ready to save me. Without him, I would have drowned. With him, I am safe in the boat. Of all the things Jesus has taught me, I think I will most remember this: storms rise, then run their course, die out and sometimes threaten again, but I never want to face one without him.
It began when Jesus sent us across the lake, and, as often happens, a storm came up on the lake. It's not that we had never encountered storms. We knew what to do, most of us anyway, and how to sail so that the boat would go with the wind and not against it. We knew the practices that were the best hope for surviving one of these squalls on the lake. But none of that was working this night, and we began to be afraid that we might just sink. Years on this lake—all my life, really—and it just might come down to this storm.
James saw him first. "What's that?" James shouted, and I turned to look. "The better question," Thaddeus said, "is WHO is that?" I squinted to see through the driving rain. "You think it's a person?" Judas asked. "If it is," Matthew said, "it's got to be a ghost. How else would they get this far out on the lake?"
Still, I squinted through the wind and the rain. As he got closer, I could see exactly who it was. "It's the Lord!" I shouted out. Matthew joined me at the side of the boat. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Lord," I called out, trying to get my voice over the noise of the storm, "is that you? If it is, call me to come to you on the waves." And then, after a moment, I heard a single word: "Come."
I didn't really think about it, and that's probably a good thing. Had I thought about what I was about to do, I would have talked myself out of it. Instead, I just obeyed what he said and I stepped over the edge of the boat. Crazy, yes, I know. But it's what I did. And that's when I felt the water under my feet. Weird feeling, as I said, especially when a fish swam up and nibbled on my big toe. I must not have tasted good, because he swam away pretty quickly.
You know, with the wind and the waves going crazy around me, I should have been scared. But I wasn't. I just keep looking at Jesus and walking toward him. Then the thunder hit. A loud, booming clap of thunder. Then I glanced at the sky, and that's when I got scared. That's when I began to sink. I yelled out as loud as I could the only thing I could think to say, "Lord, save me!"
And he did. He always does. Every time I've called out to him, he's rescued me. And then he helps me back in the boat—literally this time, and other times, more figuratively. But he's always there, ready to save me. Without him, I would have drowned. With him, I am safe in the boat. Of all the things Jesus has taught me, I think I will most remember this: storms rise, then run their course, die out and sometimes threaten again, but I never want to face one without him.
Comments
Post a Comment