The second of my recent posts about water-walking has been playing round and round my head lately. I know that my latest step out of the boat is not something that I can do without God. If he’s not in it, I will sink. But most of the time when I am thinking about this water-walking activity, I catch myself panicking about the fact that I cannot do this by myself.
Wow. Isn’t it amazing how quickly a decision to step out of the boat with Jesus can become a panic attack about the fact that I just can’t do this alone and what am I doing even trying?
And yet, you see, the irony is that last time I checked, Jesus wasn’t asking me to do this alone.
So it’s a bit pointless panicking about my own inability and the size of the waves! The deal is not that I step out of the boat because I am capable of walking on water. I’m not.
The deal is that I step out of the boat and I’m with him. And somehow it will all be ok.
Even if I am going to end up with wet feet, windswept hair and covered in seaspray. (Hmm, do you think Jesus might run to a wetsuit for me on this one?!)