Below me palm trees wave in the wind. The green grey sea laps gently against the rocks of a man made harbour in which nestles one of the fleet of Jesus boats which carry thousands of pilgrims out onto the Sea of Galilee every day.
I watched the sun rise here this morning. I have walked the hills of the north shore of the Lake today, hills where Jesus walked and taught, where crowds streamed out to him for teaching and healing. I have been in sight of Lebanon and Syria while visiting Caesarea or Bania, where the Roman gods were worshipped and where Jesus asked his disciples, Who do you say I am?
The closest I felt to him was bobbing on the water, looking at the same hills which were so familiar to him, where he often went to in the nights alone to pray, from which he watched his friends in trouble on the same water, in a storm, and he walked out to them.
Peter got out of the boat. He lost his focus and started to sink, but he at least got out of the boat.
For the rest of my life, I pray that I will always have the focus to get out of the boat. And walk on water.
Will you?
A California girl from a hot beach city marries a country loon from the cold northeast of Scotland, and she's spent the last three decades making sense out of life there. Reflections on a rural lifestyle, on identity issues and the challenges of moving so far from home,from a Christian viewpoint.
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Thursday, 15 March 2012
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