How to Walk on Water

“So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus” 

Many from my generation, born in the middle of the previous century, grew up attending Sunday School and church. Bible stories, gleaned from both the Old and New Testaments were part of the curricula taught during our childhood. Those stories include one about a pittance of food feeding a horde of people. Another tells of Peter, a disciple of Jesus, and his encounter with waters deep.

John the Baptist had been beheaded by King Herod, the result of his calling out Herod for having a relationship with his sister-in-law. John and Jesus were cousins. John was also the one who publicly acknowledged Christ as the Lamb of God, baptizing Him as He began His ministry.

The news of John’s death was sobering. Jesus headed for the boat to find refuge on the water. He needed some time alone.

When He came back ashore, He was met by masses of people. They had followed him on foot and were waiting. Filled with compassion, He pushed his personal grief aside and did not send the people away. Instead, He healed them and ministered to their needs.

The long day was coming to an end. It became apparent the crowd had not brought anything to eat with them. They were hungry. The area was deserted, and there weren’t any villages nearby to supply food for the five thousand men (plus women and children) who were present. The only food available was a boy’s offering of five small loaves of bread and two fish. Jesus accepted the gift, gave His blessing, and it multiplied beyond anyone’s imagination. The twelve baskets of leftovers provided evidence of a miracle. The throng ate and was filled, satisfied both spiritually and physically as they went back to their homes.

Night fell, and Christ instructed His disciples to board the boat and head for the opposite shore. He was going to climb the mountain by himself.  Without a doubt, His heart was broken over the report of John’s death. He needed to spend time with His Father.

A storm came up during the night when the disciples were far from land. They feared for their lives as fierce winds and waves battered the boat.

Early in the morning, Jesus walked on the sea toward them. They thought they saw a ghost and trembled with terror. “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid,” He reassured them.

Peter asked for a sign to prove it was Jesus. The disciple asked that He beckon him to join Him on the waves. 

And He did: “Come.”

Clambering over the side, Peter began walking on the water toward Jesus. The raging winds caused the water around him to roil. A powerful gust struck with such intensity that Peter turned to look. When he did, he took his eyes off Christ and promptly went under.

Christ reached out His hand to lift Peter up and said, perhaps with a bit of humor in His voice and a smile on His face, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

Many feel Bible stories are fabricated tales of glory and intrigue that have duped the gullible and less educated. Those of faith take an opposing stand, believing in the stories’ validity, reinforced by personal experience with a living God. The message is clear: If I look at the storms surrounding me, I am going to sink every time. Every. Single. Time. And I do. However, knowing the truth and living it are two different stories.

I have a lifelong friend who knows how to walk on water. The year 2019 brought her severe physical problems. She was overcome with excruciating joint pain throughout her body, the kind that has no future other than leading to life in a wheelchair. The suffering remained relentless. As 2020 approached, the pain abated but was replaced by blindness. It happened gradually, darkness taking over first one eye, then the other.

I phone her periodically. “How are you?” I ask.

Without fail, her response is, “Good.” And she is.

If I am asked the same question, I usually answer, “Okay.”  There are times when I am “good” but not with the same consistency as she. 

“You’re looking at the outer and not the inner,” my friend said. She also acknowledged it is easier said than done. It takes time and practice to stay focused on the inner—on God.

The world has experienced an upheaval, a literal turning upside-down of all that was once “normal.” COVID-19, the 2020 pandemic, is like a giant sinkhole that keeps growing, its center a vortex that sucks a person down if allowed. The political landscape portends fulfillment of biblical prophecies. What does it all mean?

Lying in bed one restless night, I was contemplating the long-term effects of the pandemic lockdown on my grandgirls, the push of government toward a one-world system (called the New World Order), and every other detail that entered my mind. That is looking at the outer, the storm with the wind and the waves—the opposite of faith and trust. You would think I would know better. I do. Old habits die hard.

I cried out to my heavenly Father, a familiar plea when I am mentally spinning off into oblivion. I don’t know how He does it, when it happens, or even why, but He always takes me to a better place.

How do you walk on water? Our walks with God are individual and personal. I am unable to refer you to a how-to manual. I am Peter in the raw. I doubt. God responds. I look around at the storms and flail about, sinking. Ever faithful, He reaches out and lifts me up.

This much I know: I revel in the times of inner peace and calm, as I fully realize they are because I am looking to Him not at the storms and garbage whirling around me. That is how and what it means to walk on water.

            

 Matthew 14:29 NRSV—opening scripture reference