ditching the water shoes

"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. When evening came, he was there alone, but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.
During the fourth watch of the night 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?'" Matthew 14:22-31

 



Ever feel like you are trudging through life in a pair of Peter's water shoes?

 

I lost my grandpa last month. If I'm being honest, I thought I was totally prepared for his passing, but I'm learning that there really is no way to prepare for the death of a loved one. When the family finally made the decision to place him in Hospice Care, we all knew that it was only a matter of time. When I got the text message from my mom that he had finally passed, I was sad, yes, but in my head I believed that I was prepared to deal with what would come next.

 

False.

 

The past month has been a complete blur. It has felt a lot like going through the motions. Unmotivated. Unenthused. Distracted. Disoriented. Grief-stricken.

 

Though there may be pain in the night(s), there is joy in the morning because there is power in the name of Jesus.

 

I recently was able to open up and be honest with myself about the last month and the story of Peter and Jesus walking on water popped into my head. I honestly love Peter's story throughout the New Testament because I believe he's so relatable. He has his big bold and brave moments, but then he also has his "sinking" moments that I have experienced a time or too.

 

Something I have learned recently is that when the waters rise-when life throws a wrench in the mix, the instant we take our eyes off of Jesus we begin to sink.

 

In the midst of grieving over the loss of my grandpa, I took my eyes off of Christ. When he beckoned me to walk on the water, I refused to get my feet wet. When he offered his hand to steady me while trying to help me climb out of the boat, I resorted to floaties, goggles, and a personal oxygen tank. It is then I felt him ask me, "Why do you doubt me? I see your hurt. Let me help."

 

Losing a loved one hurts.

 

I'm grateful for the eternal hope and comfort I have that I will see my grandpa again one day, but the hole in my heart still exists. Despite my efforts to heal the hurt that has made itself at home in my heart, those efforts have been futile.

 

Donuts, while tasty, are a temporary fix. Books, while great distractions, end. Shopping, leaves a hole in my wallet, rather than filling the one in my heart, BUT there is power in the name of a God who sees my hurting heart. He calls me out onto the water-steadying me with each step I take. No need for water shoes, floaties, goggles, or an oxygen tank. He's got me not only by the hand, but in the palm of his hand. It's an extraordinary kind of love to be held in such a way that keeps you from sinking.

 

Psalm 119:133 says, "Direct my footsteps according to your word; let no sin rule over me." I believe that the healing that breaks through grief, comes when we allow ourselves to become completely overtaken by Christ-allowing him to do a mighty work in and through us.

 

1 Corinthians 6:12 says, "I will not be mastered by anything." The last month and four days, I have allowed the loss of a loved one blur my vision. Rather then keeping my eyes on Jesus, I became overwhelmed by the raging grief around me. Thankfully he immediately offered me his hand and steadied my footing.

 

I'm happy to admit that I'm ready to finally get my feet wet. Bouncing back will take some time, but with my eyes clamped on Christ, I'm beginning to venture out of my security boat and rest in the embrace of the plan and purpose He has set before me.

 

My prayer is that if someone is experiencing a "sinking" moment, that you join me in ditching the water shoes, floaties, goggles, and oxygen tank. Take hold of the hand being offered to you, take courage, and take the first step onto the water.