“Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.” Matthew 14:29
I am a Peter. If there was an online survey to determine which Apostle you are, I’m sure I’d be Peter. I relate to his boldness, his fearlessness, his sometimes unrestrained faith that borders on recklessness and impulsivity. I thrive on change. I don’t need to know what tomorrow holds. I want to live an adventure. I have been compared to a rock in the past – I stand strong, like Peter, the rock on which Jesus could build a church.
I find it really unfortunate that it bothers me how all the teachings on Matthew 14, the story of Peter walking on the water, seem to focus almost completely on the moment of doubt, minimizing the fact that the faith of this man led him to WALK ON TOP OF THE OCEAN! Let me tell you, if you walked on the ocean, even for 20 seconds, it would be the most incredible and memorable 20 seconds of your life! Imagine telling the story to your friends! Mine would go like this,
“It was the middle of the night. I took a nap in the hull of the boat, but no one could sleep for long because the boat started to rock like an amusement park ride, and we had to hold onto the benches to keep from getting thrown around and knocked out. Then I heard that voice! It was our teacher! Was it really him, or just his ghost? The dim light and rocky waves had us feeling pretty skittish, so the appearance of a ghost would have totally fit the mood. With the dim light of the moon bouncing off the foamy waves, I could barely see 6 feet ahead, but as I got a few good glimpses through the spray, I was sure it was him. I’d know him anywhere – like I would know my own brother! He was walking ON TOP of the waves! Never had I felt more alive! Seeing our teacher, our friend, the true Messiah, walking on the waves! My heart leapt, and I wanted to jump right out of that boat to join him! So I asked him to command me to walk on the water to meet him, and he did! In a second – without even thinking – I grabbed the side of the boat, pushed myself over the edge, and lowered right down onto the choppy water. And I could stand! It was AMAZING! I was standing right on its surface as surely as I can stand right here on the ground! My jaw was dropped the whole time I’m sure, staring at my teacher. I took a step toward him. My love and awe for him could not have gotten any larger without bursting me wide open. What kind of God would share his power with a nobody like me? There has never been a better friend in the world! And he chose me! Man, that was so awesome.”
I’m sure I’d be less excited to share the last part of the story.
“After a couple of steps, the rough waters distracted me, and I took my eyes off of Jesus. Instantly, I was going down! Of course, my Lord reached out and pulled me right back up and helped me back into the boat. I will never forget it. That 5 minutes play over and over in my mind like a favorite movie scene. I can hardly believe it really happened! But it sure did. I swear!”
I relate to Peter, but I always wanted to be better than him. I thought I would learn from his mistakes and have a faith that’s stronger, so that I would walk all the way across the water without sinking. A devotion that’s stronger, so I wouldn’t deny Jesus in a time of trial. I imagine that I could be a better version of Peter. More bold, more faithful, more stable.
But this week, I related to all of Peter – especially his weakness.
From the start of the Covid-19 crisis, I had kept my eyes on Jesus. I could see him working. I felt close to him, believing – without a shred of doubt – that he was on the throne, working things out, rolling out his plan to build the church, strengthen the body of believers, bring healing to his people, and glory to his Father. I was on the team, out of the boat and on the water. The water was rough, but I was fixed on Jesus and thrilled by the strengthening of my faith by the Holy Spirit.
But then….
George Floyd.
Pain, hurt, and anguish erupting in violence and chaos.
A sorrow and injustice that raged so hard around me, I sank like a stone. Just like Peter.
The turmoil became too much to ignore. I took my eyes off of Jesus, becoming consumed by the tragedy unfurling on every side of me. It was too much, too heavy, too painful. I went down.
There it was, mixed into the thunderstorm of thoughts and emotions driving down in my heart and mind. Doubt. What now God? I thought about Jeremiah 29:11. “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
What about it God? What was your plan for George Floyd? For his family? For all of these cities being burned to the ground? I felt the pain and hurt of a thousand children of God, and I wondered if He will really keep his promises.
I brought my doubt right up to the throne of the Almighty King. I yelled at my divine dad, just like the bold and unrestrained disciple that I am. I cried out in desperation, longing for His reassurance. I begged him to show his goodness, to intervene on behalf of his children.
Then nothing. No strike of thunder, no whisper, no miraculous change in the news reports, no phone call or Bible verse or piece of mail with a message from God. Just quiet.
But I know God. I have called him Father for so many years and have followed Him through many winding paths and wilderness. I know from experience that He hears me. I know that He will never leave me or forsake me. I know that He has called me to such a time as this. And I knew right then that He was there with me in the quiet, listening, undaunted by my outrage. In the silence, in His presence, as I shamelessly unloaded anger and frustration, he remained patient. We held that space together, and I had to make a choice.
Trust is always a choice. Every day I have to choose afresh – do I trust God, or do I need to take matters into my own hands now? Do I believe that the Bible is true, that He keeps His promises? Or is it time for me to take the reins, before things fall completely apart? In that moment, as in so many storms past, I chose trust.
And today, I choose it again. I will keep my spot on the team. I will get back in the boat and go forward with my Lord, my brother, into the unknown, patiently longing for the day when we will be together on the other side of this broken and dark world. For now, I’m going to try and get some more people into this boat.
Charmaine Rusin 