Matthew 14: 22-32
Peter
It wasn’t the first time I had been caught in the middle of a storm on
the Sea of Galilee. I was a fisherman, after all, and was used to the
ever-changing temperament of the water. But this time just felt different, more
dangerous, somehow. Perhaps it was because Jesus wasn’t with us that night. He
had gone up into the mountain to pray, to be alone.
All night we toiled, our fears growing as our strength depleted. It
wasn’t until the fourth watch¾nearly morning¾that we saw a figure approaching, walking on
the water. We thought it was a ghost. In our exhausted and anxious state, we
“cried out for fear.”
But then we heard those sweet words: “Be of good cheer, it is I, be not
afraid.” I felt that it truly was the Master, and I desired to go to Him even
though rationality prompted me otherwise. But I trusted Jesus and knew He was
my safe haven. If He could walk out on those boisterous waves, then He could
enable me to do the same. I wanted this chance to grow, to become more like
Him. And that’s why I asked Him to call me to the water. That’s why I couldn’t
wait in the boat.
Jesus’ simple answer at my request strengthened my confidence. “Come,” He
had said. And I would obey that gentle command. I would take the first step,
because He believed I could.
At first, I had no doubts. Though the waves and the wind threatened to
pull me in and sink me, I was keeping my eyes on Jesus, and I knew I would be
safe. After all, He had called me out there, hadn’t He? And so I continued
onward, slowly, step by step, each moment moving closer to Jesus.
But
eventually I became aware of a dark voice in my mind, reminding me how far away
the boat was, how tumultuous the waves had become, how fiercely the wind blew.
“Just look around you,” the voice
hissed. “Look how the sea tries to swallow you. Look at yourself. Did you
really think that you, lowly Peter, could walk on water?”
And I listened to the voice. I looked at the waves rolling threateningly
around me. I looked at myself, weak and helpless. I was so very small and the
wind so very strong. I had taken my eyes off Jesus and was sinking into the
icy, billowing water. In desperation I cried out to Him:
“Lord, save me.” He was the only One who could.
And “immediately Jesus stretched forth His hand, and caught (me)…” In
the very instant I called out to Him, Jesus pulled me up, and I found myself
standing by His strength. As we stood on the water together, I looked once
again into His eyes, feeling ashamed for ever looking away.
His ever-gentle face softened even more as He said, “O thou of little
faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?” His eyes spoke more of what He did not say:
“I had you in my hands. I was never going to let you sink. You can always trust
me, Child.”
I nodded, understanding that I had known this all along but had just
forgotten it. With His arm now securely and lovingly wrapped around my
shoulders, we walked back to the boat together. From that moment on, I knew
that as long as I kept my eyes on Jesus, I would never sink, no matter how the
waves raged and the winds blew.
Life is a storm, isn’t it? There seems
to be some issue going on at any given moment in my life. The storm doesn’t
calm down so that I can safely walk out onto the sea. Life doesn’t wait. It
doesn’t present the easiest path always before me. And sometimes living the
gospel means taking chances for Jesus. It means getting out of my comfort zone
and learning to trust in Him. I love that Peter had the initial faith to step
outside of the boat when Jesus beckoned, “Come.” And I think it’s interesting
that it isn’t until Peter asks the Lord to bid him come that Jesus invites Him
to do so. Christ will never force me to do anything, but He is always waiting
for me to come.
And then, when I have made that first
step onto the water, I need to keep having faith in Him, keep my eyes on Him.
If I focus on the danger and fear, and my own inadequacy, then I forget who I
was walking to in the first place. I lose sight of the Savior. There have been
times in my life when I, like Peter, have been overwhelmed by the world and
felt like I was sinking. And also like Peter, when I cry out in utter humility,
“Lord, save me,” I remember that He is the only one who can save me, and He
does so immediately. When I get my focus back on the Savior, the waves begin to
cease; the wind starts to calm. But perhaps more often, my surroundings don’t
become more peaceful, but I do. My perspective changes as soon as I look at
Jesus. But the important thing is that I did call out for Him. I did say,
“Lord, save me.” I didn’t try to tread the water on my own. I didn’t search
frantically for a drifting piece of wood. In the moment of disaster, I
remembered who the real Life Guard was, and realized that He had never
forgotten me.
So what does it mean to keep my
eyes on Christ? I think it means to remember that He is the true and ultimate
source of peace and healing. This may sound obvious, even easy. But the thing
is, not all distractions are evil. Sometimes I look to sources (books,
activities, people) that ARE GOOD, and even point toward Christ, but my CENTER
focus should always be on the Savior. I should remember that all good things
come from Him and testify of Him. My favorite book (no matter how many
wonderful things it can teach me) cannot forgive me of my sins, teach me the
perfect way to live, or grant me eternal life. Only Jesus can do that. And so I
will keep Him in the very center of my heart, and I know that no matter what
else happens, I will never sink. “I believe in Christ, so come what may.”
 |
| Photo Source |
No comments:
Post a Comment