Getting Wet

It rained overnight, hard enough to waken me. This morning, though, dawned dry under leaden skies. 

By 4 the sun had vanquished the clouds, and after a busy day I started my frequent walk up the incline skirting the shore at Malaga Cove, a surfer’s paradise. I watched in wonder as a very skilful surfer rode the waves, twisting and turning and finally trying a flip which landed him in the water.

I plodded on, sun in my face, slow and steady, up the hill, thinking about someone else who rode the waves, so to speak. Jesus, walking on the water.

The storm was still raging as he made his historic walk. For the first time, I wondered if his feet stayed dry, or did his toes dip in? Was his robe soaked or just splattered with spray? Was it raining as well? 

I think it is probably not possible to walk on water without getting a little wet, especially in a storm.

I’m not in a storm, but the things that need doing for Mom always become more complicated than I anticipate, and I can begin to feel overwhelmed. I can feel like I am in a storm, lashed by rains and buffeted by wild winds. But before I falter I look to Jesus. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, and when I remember that, and focus on him, even if my toes dip in and the wild waves splash, I don’t sink.

I don’t know if Jesus got wet, but he didn’t sink. Peter would not have sunk, either, had he not taken his eyes off Jesus and freaked out at the size of the waves and the impossibility of doing what he was doing.

These days there are storms in all lives. My storms are minor compared to the dreadful storms unleashed on so many, so it is with real humility that I suggest Jesus can handle the most terrible of tempests. Keep your eyes on him, and put one foot in front of the other.

The sun will shine again and the gales will blow themselves out. 

Be still and know that I am God.