My stomach knots further as our teacher walks out to get him and give me the pictures I get to choose from.
"I'm scared." I think, panic building. "What if I speak Arabic instead of French? What if I just can't say anything? What if? What if?" The questions race through my mind as I pick up my pen and begin to write my notes. Time to empty my mind, time to forget my fears...
And why are they so much harder to forget than the lesson I learnt just last night. Why are the fears and worries harder to forget than the Truth I was pierced with less than twelve hours before?
I was making excuses. I was trying to justify my fears. And unbidden, the thought rose to mind "I'm not trusting God enough."
I had shaken my head, trying to deny that that was it, trying to deny that I wasn't trusting God enough... my workload was just too big... right?
But again that thought came to mind, unbidden, unwanted, uncomfortable.
It grabbed me and it shook me and it took me.
It took me to that lake in the Middle East, the beautiful Lake Galilee. But this was not the lake of my childhood memories. It was not the lake I watched as I ate food in a car to protect us from the flies.
It was the lake in first century Israel.
It took me to that night when Peter recklessly leaps out of the safety of his fishing boat, determined to walk over the waves to His Master and Teacher. I watched him lose focus and begin to sink. I watch Our Lord walk over and haul him up, setting him upright again.
The lack of faith.
"O Peter," I chuckle, "Can you not follow through on your faith?"
And then thought again, that hateful, unbidden thought returns to mind. And I know that the Lord has turned to look at me.
Then I realize, than I see the Truth in that Sunday school story I know so well.
Peter may have tried to enact his faith, and failed, by literally walking over the rough waters of Lake Galilee... but who am I to judge him for that?
Because in my life, I too walk on water.
Or I try to.
My waves are exams and my assignments and the opinions of my friends and teachers and the work that's piling up.
And my eyes have drifted from the One who holds me upright.
And the fear, the worry.... it is choking me and drowning me just as much as the water choked and drowned Peter that night millennia ago.
My faith... my faith is not enough.
I should not be "keeping my head above water... so, you know..."
I should be walking over it, striding, running even, eyes fixed on Jesus, Worship and Joy filling me and lifting me.
I should not be surviving. I should be Living.
That's not say my waves won't still be there, tossing and turning, reaching to choke and drown me... but my eyes should not consider them, my heart should not dwell on them. I simply need to soak in the Glory of God and let Him guide me over them.
Because Life is an ocean.
And I can either drown in it...
Or I can walk on it, not moving my eyes away from Christ.
But there is a Promise, a Promise that gives me Courage and lifts me up: though I drown as Peter did, the Lord, my Father, my Teacher, my King, will grab my hand and raise me up again.
It's time for me to stop drowning and start Walking on Water.
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