Last night, as Justin got dressed in pajamas after his bath, all shiny-faced and baby-shampoo-curls, he said, “Mommy, I wish I wasn’t sick anymore. I don’t remember what it feels like NOT to be sick.”
It’s moments like these that start me sinking. I often think of Peter and his few faith-filled steps on water until they weren’t anymore because his focus turned to the hostile wind surrounding him. This is a perfect picture of the rollercoaster I’ve ridden since we first learned of Justin’s diagnosis.
Sometimes I’m walking on water in faith and sometimes I’m sinking like an avalanche of boulders. But always, always I can look to Jesus for deliverance.
Peter may have temporarily taken his focus from the Lord, but, hey, he got out of the boat. Well, not necessarily always by choice, we are also often drawn out to a place of deeper faith.
This is my hope. Yes, I sink repeatedly. But looking to Jesus, I rise or maybe am sometimes pulled. But I am rescued. I am always caught by His hand.
Shortly before dawn 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?”
And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”
I have yanked our young boys out of our pool more than once. I’ve jumped in fully clothed to grab a friend’s child from the deep end. My actions were quick and immediate. This is how I picture Jesus responding when we call to Him. Grace be with you, my friends.