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Walking On Water


           Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it. Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear.
         But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”
          "Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”
              “Come,” he said.
          Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.  But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”
          Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”
          And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” (Matthew 14:22-33)

          I’ve been describing myself as an amoeba for the past several days. I blunder along until I bump into something, then respond to it. Tonight, as I’m finally working on tomorrow morning’s blog entry, I’m seeing it a little differently. I think I’m trying to walk on water. It’s dark and stormy in my life. The waves are crashing over my little bark, and to top it all off, I’m sea sick. I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my feet. I do know where I’m supposed to put my eyes, and I’m trying but then I get slammed by another wave of circumstance or nausea.
          What I posted last night remains: God is good. The problem is, I’m so weak. Today, options have emerged that were not visible last night. The way is not so completely dark, but it seems that just about the time I think I have a clue….
          Why do I have such little faith? Why do I doubt? If God is good, then why can I not just close my eyes and step? Maybe part of the reason isn’t a lack of faith. Maybe part of the reason I can’t take a step yet is because the step has not arrived for me to take. Perhaps there’s a way to take that step that I haven’t figured out yet. When you walk on water, do you stroll? Do you moonwalk? Do you slog? Or, perhaps, is it like a wedding march, requiring a step then a hesitation, then a step?
          I don’t know. As I peer into the darkness in hope of some sign of which way to step, I find myself praying the same prayer that my father has been praying in his hospital bed: Help me…help me….

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