When He walks on water

Yesterday morning I went to church. The pastor spoke on Matthew 14 something, where Jesus walks on water. What a crazy and beautiful story. I thought it was a nice sermon. I nodded at all of his points and prayed for understanding and application. Consider the story for a moment. Jesus commands His disciples to get into the boat without Him, knowing that a storm awaits them. In the midst of that storm He walks 3 miles on water to meet them. Then Peter opens his big mouth and ends up walking out to meet Him. It says that when they got back into the boat, the storm was calm and they worshipped Him. Now, why would you ask for application of this story and expect anything less than earth-shaking? This did not occur to me this morning.

I spent the rest of the day with friends "watching" the football games, eating too much food, and laughing. I recognized mid-fun how blessed I am with the people in my life. I was particularly glad to see my friend, Andrew, and not just because he is the star of the rest of this post. I really truly remember being so glad that he was there. I haven't gotten to see him much lately.

Later that evening, the last few of us decided to go back to Andrew's house (where my brother and his brother live as well) and (planned to) watch South Park. We parted with a "see you there" but in fact, the next time I saw him was on the side of the road, staring into a ditch at the underbelly of his cadillac. I was baffled at the contrary states of the car and himself but he admitted the only thing hurt was his pride. Seems there was a moment of spinning and then he was upside down. He put the car in park, unbuckled and crawled out. Of course, the car had no such luck of coming out unscathed and staring down at it, we knew it would be an evening of tow-trucks, police reports and insurance company hold music. We didn't care. We knew what we had escaped and how differently the evening might be going if. We didn't talk about the "if"s or "could"s but the silence said it. I tried to keep my dramatic self at bay but I wasn't going to pretend. I hugged Andrew for a while and then let him tend to his upside-down car predicament.

Driving home (eyes glued on the road, hands at 10 and 2 of course), I began to give credit where I knew it was due.

"Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you."

I let my mind settle into a state of gratitude for this and all the other times, whether known to me or not, that He has kept my family and people I love safe. I felt the weight of all the thanks I owed him and began to cry. Alone in a silent car, I felt open. I felt exposed and honest. I began to talk to God in a way that I haven't in a while. I said I was sorry for hurting Him and I didn't understand why he spared me hurt. Even saved me from it. He said it was because He loves me. I asked what I needed to do and He said, "Know that I love you." By definition, it is hard to know that someone loves you with an incomprehesible love but I felt a level of it and I asked Him to wrap me in it and for the 30 minute drive I sat in it. And I thanked Him for it. I sang and He listened.

When Jesus walked on water, the disciples were afraid. At His command their fear ceased with the storm and "those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, 'Truly you are the Son of God.'" (Matthew 14:33)

Sometimes He whispers. Sometimes He walks on water. Maybe I wasn't hearing the whispering, but I saw this. Truly He is the Son of God.