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The winds howled, the waves crashed against the shore and the sea tossed
the boat from one hand to another. On a nearby mountain, Jesus escaped
into the tranquility of solitude, recharging his soul in prayer.
The disciples were alone. They fought to keep the boat sound.
They were afraid. They were wet. They were tired.
About three o’clock in the morning, the disciples fell deeper into their
fear. They saw what looked like a ghost moving across the water and
coming toward them. Their exhaustion turned to terror. They
lost it and started screaming.
Jesus said, “It’s OK, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
“Is it really you?” Peter asked. “If it is really
you then give me the word and I’ll walk to you.” Jesus answered him,
“Yes, it’s me, come on.”
So Peter stepped out of the boat onto the water. Peter must have
really been afraid. I mean, how could he have thought it would be
safer with his feet in the middle of a storm tossed sea than in a boat?
Peter began to walk toward Jesus, and was able to walk on the water,
until he noticed the waves again and became afraid. In that instant,
his fears overcame him and he began to sink into a liquid grave.
His fear had wrestled his faith to the ground–he was going to die.
But with a remnant of faith left, he cried out to Jesus, “Save me.”
And Jesus did.
It isn’t the amount of faith that saves us, sometimes all we have
left is just a trace. Just enough to cry out in our desperation for
help. Not much. But just enough.
Read the sermon
that corresponds to this devotional.