Inspiration

The Girl who walked on Water

September 12, 2016

“Come”, he said.

 

Breathe deeply. Hold your breath. Let it out. Repeat. Then step out. One foot, then the next. Forward. Repeat.

That’s all she had to do – deep breaths, one foot in front of the other, forward movement – to walk on water. It seemed easy except she never got past taking deep breaths, understandably so. Who would imagine that she would ever contemplate walking on water, she who couldn’t swim? The absurdity and sheer insanity of it was worrisome. She had always played safe – no late nights, no speeding, no unhealthy eating – and it had always worked for her.

 

But then it was He who was calling out to her. He seemed to always have a clearer picture of these things than anyone else. And He seemed trustworthy. He was out on the water too, and He seemed pretty comfortable so maybe He knew more about these things than she did. She had read in the past about how Peter walked out on the water to meet Him – somewhere on the way He took his eyes of the man, Jesus, and he started sinking. Jesus saved him, but still, she wasn’t one to take chances.

 

Her gaze could be on a million things at once, so how could she keep her eyes stayed on Him? There were bills to be paid, goals to fulfill and dreams that she had to live out in colour. Then the nightmares too. It was hard. He had always told her not to worry, but surely He must know she was a worrier and thinker.

 

But this boat didn’t feel as good anymore.

 

In a way, she’d worried herself into a hole. One that caused her boat to fill up with water. And it was filling up so rapidly it didn’t make any more sense to stay in it. And well, He was persistent and reassuring. He had never stopped calling out to her, so maybe it was time to try this out.

 

Gingerly, with her eyes on Him, and her heart on His word, she tried again.

Breathe deeply. Hold your breath. Let it out. Repeat. Then step out. One foot, then the next. Forward. Repeat.

And boy, did she walk!

And there was sinking, and floating, and walking and flying, and tears and laughter. And there was failing and starting over again.

But she was never ever afraid of raging storms again.

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