Monday night at Friendship Class highlighted a review of the story of Jesus and Peter walking on the water. Now, I probably first heard this story at age 3 and can quickly rattle off the sequence:
After a busy day involving motivational speaking to upwards of 10,000 people without a PA system (not to mention miraculous provision of protein and carbs), Jesus decided to take five and went for a walk. The disciples hopped in a boat presumably left over from their fisherman days and proceeded to sail across a humongous lake. (Yes, the Middle East does evidently have a few). Well, a mean storm swirls up out of nowhere, and the disciples presume they are about to perish. This seemed to happen to them on a fairly routine basis, which can't have been good for their blood pressure. Anyway, in the middle of the spurting waves and gasping winds, Jesus comes sauntering across the waves. The disciples' first inclination was that He was a ghost (guess they assumed only lonely spirits hovered in fatal weather) until Jesus called out to them not to be afraid. Then they were just plain confused (which also seemed to happen on a fairly routine basis--hence all the sheep analogies in the Bible), but Peter--our hero--blurts out, "Lord, if it really is you, tell me to walk to you on the water."
Well, the rest of the story generally gets all the press. Jesus tells him to come; Peter jumps out of the boat and walks on the water to Jesus; Peter becomes scared by the wind and waves and starts to sink; he has enough presence of mind to yell, "Help, Lord!"; Jesus escorts him back to the boat. Good stuff. Better than dragons and dwarfs, but let's backtrack for a minute, back to yours truly blearily cogitating in Friendship Class.
As I was sitting there after a twelve hour day with no rest, I thought, "Why the heck did Peter tell Jesus to call him out of the boat? What motivated him? Did he want the miraculous? Was he just overwhelmed and not thinking clearly? Was it the Holy Spirit? Why would commanding Peter to do something stupid prove Jesus' identity? It seems counter-intuitive. So crazy!" And then the Holy Spirit reminded me, "You pray that way Katie." Oh. Right.
Okay, so I do try to avoid smelly fishing boats, but the principle applies. I do pray that way. Sometimes my circumstances are crazy and I think I see God showing up in a certain way. I want to be where He is, but the environment is chaotic, and I'm not sure it's really Him. It's confusing. It's scary. And yes, I have been known to say, "God, if this is really how You're moving, confirm it for me. Confirm in me this absurd inclination that is not something that would come naturally to me. Prompt me to be kinder than I actually am. Give me the urge to volunteer for yet one more thing that doesn't fit into my schedule. Tell me to call this person who really annoys me--because these are things I know don't originate from my brain."
And the other reassuring thought from the Peter lesson was that even if I become overwhelmed and sink, it doesn't mean that I heard wrong. I'm still processing this one, but I do know that He's not surprised when I fail. So it's better to try. Maybe I'll sink, but at least I will have walked on water.
After a busy day involving motivational speaking to upwards of 10,000 people without a PA system (not to mention miraculous provision of protein and carbs), Jesus decided to take five and went for a walk. The disciples hopped in a boat presumably left over from their fisherman days and proceeded to sail across a humongous lake. (Yes, the Middle East does evidently have a few). Well, a mean storm swirls up out of nowhere, and the disciples presume they are about to perish. This seemed to happen to them on a fairly routine basis, which can't have been good for their blood pressure. Anyway, in the middle of the spurting waves and gasping winds, Jesus comes sauntering across the waves. The disciples' first inclination was that He was a ghost (guess they assumed only lonely spirits hovered in fatal weather) until Jesus called out to them not to be afraid. Then they were just plain confused (which also seemed to happen on a fairly routine basis--hence all the sheep analogies in the Bible), but Peter--our hero--blurts out, "Lord, if it really is you, tell me to walk to you on the water."
Well, the rest of the story generally gets all the press. Jesus tells him to come; Peter jumps out of the boat and walks on the water to Jesus; Peter becomes scared by the wind and waves and starts to sink; he has enough presence of mind to yell, "Help, Lord!"; Jesus escorts him back to the boat. Good stuff. Better than dragons and dwarfs, but let's backtrack for a minute, back to yours truly blearily cogitating in Friendship Class.
As I was sitting there after a twelve hour day with no rest, I thought, "Why the heck did Peter tell Jesus to call him out of the boat? What motivated him? Did he want the miraculous? Was he just overwhelmed and not thinking clearly? Was it the Holy Spirit? Why would commanding Peter to do something stupid prove Jesus' identity? It seems counter-intuitive. So crazy!" And then the Holy Spirit reminded me, "You pray that way Katie." Oh. Right.
Okay, so I do try to avoid smelly fishing boats, but the principle applies. I do pray that way. Sometimes my circumstances are crazy and I think I see God showing up in a certain way. I want to be where He is, but the environment is chaotic, and I'm not sure it's really Him. It's confusing. It's scary. And yes, I have been known to say, "God, if this is really how You're moving, confirm it for me. Confirm in me this absurd inclination that is not something that would come naturally to me. Prompt me to be kinder than I actually am. Give me the urge to volunteer for yet one more thing that doesn't fit into my schedule. Tell me to call this person who really annoys me--because these are things I know don't originate from my brain."
And the other reassuring thought from the Peter lesson was that even if I become overwhelmed and sink, it doesn't mean that I heard wrong. I'm still processing this one, but I do know that He's not surprised when I fail. So it's better to try. Maybe I'll sink, but at least I will have walked on water.
1 comment:
I like your summary. And I agree with your thought process. I wish our lives allowed us to talk and visit more often. I miss our conversations. Do you like my simple sentences? I've been talking to a child too long...
Post a Comment