Walking on Water and Waiting in Faith
After you step out in faith, here’s the next step
“I know when the instructions have come from God because of their quiet persistence.” — Oswald Chambers
I wish I could download and share a watertight manual on how to discern God’s will. I wish there was an outline that showed us how to determine if our choices and instructions are from God or from our own flawed view of life. But, alas, I have none of this and neither do you. The best we can do is follow in the footsteps of our examples, even when those examples don’t leave a clear path to follow.
As I sip my coffee in the early morning hour, doubts continue to ring through my ears — questions of why did we do this? and did I mistake my voice for God’s? Instead of counting sheep, I spent the night counting off all the things I gave up to step out on faith. I see no next steps, no fruit from this decision, and I am very much tempted to think that I misheard the directions from God, that I misunderstood the quiet persistence that came with such peace for many months.
Pros and cons have little to do with faith
I am tempted to create a simple T-chart in my mind and label the left side “Pros” and the right side “Cons” and begin listing out all the reasons (many with hindsight as inspiration) why we should have stayed where we were and why this recent move doesn’t seem to make sense. But God’s Spirit — much like Jesus’ kind voice to Peter — stops me and says, Why do you doubt?
I am just another Peter, eager and excited to be called. When Peter asks to be called, Jesus assents and says,
“Come ahead.” (Matthew 14:29–30, MSG )
Like Peter, I take that first step with faith and joy and abandon, only to look down and become overwhelmed by what seems to be a ridiculous and maybe even dangerous venture.
This is not what I bargained for, not the way I pictured it all in my head as I prepared to step out of the boat, sell my farm, and move out of state. The waves no longer seem inviting — they are a bit scary and unwelcoming. The boat seems much warmer, stable, secure, and yes — safe. Faith in me reminds me that it’s all an illusion — all the trappings and walls and safeguards we wrap around ourselves are really just as flimsy as a wooden boat on a stormy sea and that walking on water with Jesus is — in a reality that I can’t fully see yet — actually safer.
“There is only risk in deliberation.” — Graham Cooke
Human nature prefers a clear path
Sure, I’ll embark on that journey with a map, working GPS, an itinerary, and a destination. But when Jesus asks me to “come ahead” without the itinerary, a compass, or a pinpoint on the map, I balk. Tell me more, I pray. He waits in silence.
“Faith, however, is not intellectual understanding; faith is a deliberate commitment to the Person of Jesus Christ, even when we can’t see the way ahead.” — Oswald Chambers
I’ve learned one thing in life with Christ: we only need to have faith to take the next step (perhaps that’s why He describes faith as a tiny mustard seed). It’s not the seed that produces great faith — it’s what the seed will become when planted.
But sometimes that next step is followed by a period of waiting
Come ahead.
Now, be still.
Now is not the time for me to make the pro/con list — in fact, that list may never work for a life of faith. Now is the time for me to keep my eyes on Jesus and refuse to look down. My feet are wet and cold and I keep glancing back to a boat I can no longer return to but I don’t know what lies ahead.
I’m reminded of the story Corrie ten Boom used to tell as an example of God’s provision and grace. It’s a simple story but a lesson that sustained her during cruel years in a Nazi concentration camp.
As a young girl, Corrie would travel by train with her father. She eagerly awaited the time when the conductor would walk through the train car to punch each passenger’s ticket. Corrie’s father held her ticket safely inside his pocket so she would not lose or tear it. Knowing she liked to present the ticket to the conductor, Corrie’s father would wait until the conductor was almost upon them to give her the ticket. This was their routine, yet every time they were on the train, Corrie would beg, “Please, Father, can I have my ticket now?”
Her father always replied the same, “When you need it and not sooner.”
Corrie used this memory to cling to God’s grace during her imprisonment. She was reminded time and again that grace is like the train ticket and she would receive what she needed at exactly the time she needed it.
The liminal space
When we obey in faith, there is often an in-between space called liminal space. This is the space after we take our big step of faith out of the boat and come ahead with Jesus and before He shows us what’s next. It’s the time between what was and the next chapter of our journey. It’s a transition phase where we no longer fit where we were but don’t yet fit where we’re going. It can feel barren or we can choose to harness that time. It’s a waiting room, a threshold as we embark on something new.
“…where we are betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown. There alone is our old world left behind, while we are not yet sure of the new existence. That’s a good space where genuine newness can begin.”— Richard Rohr
This liminal space feels like I’m trying to walk on water in the middle of the night. It’s dark. There are no road signs or directions — only the faint persistent memory of how certain I was when I stepped out. I am aware that God is near but the wobbliness of the water beneath my feet feels so foreign that I wonder how this can be a safe place in God’s will.
God is a rock, a refuge, a shelter, not wet uncertainty. Yet His gentle voice persists, Come ahead. Why do you doubt?
All the pro/con lists in the world, all the advice from trusted friends, all the canned sermons about faith won’t help now. I am one follower out on the water, searching for the horizon.
But God never abandons
Peter began to sink,
“He cried, “Master, save me!” Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand.” (Matthew 14:30–31, MSG)
Our faith requires that we suspend doubt, but also that we suspend reason. It’s abandonment and our nature rallies against that idea. As soon as Adam and Eve reasoned on their own they made clothes and hid from God.
My plans, my lists, my programmed life — it’s all the same sad tale of forgetting to trust God over and over.
Jesus: Come ahead.
Me: Tell me more.
Jesus: Why do you doubt?
Me: I’ll come but what’s next?
Jesus: Trust me.
Me: I do, but I’d like a plan.
Jesus: Take my hand.
Me: I think I misunderstood. I should probably go back until you reveal more.
“But my righteous one will live by faith. And I take no pleasure in the one who shrinks back.” (Hebrews 10:38, NIV)
God doesn’t require me to see ahead to be faithful
He ever challenges me. I suppose it’s because He sees a hunger in me to live a life of faith.
If I could see ahead my steps would not be steps of faith.
I’m such a baby and often, like Peter, I step on ahead — eager to be with Jesus — only to slip and fall when I wake up from my childlike stupor and realize I’ve stepped away from the boat.
Life is a little wobbly for me now, but I am aware that a pro/con list would be akin to shrinking back and my Savior would have no pleasure in that so I must go forward. Trying to scramble back to the boat I just left would look a lot like Lot’s wife and looking back is never a good idea when we find our faith wavering. He is the God of our present future so it’s always best to keep our eyes on Him and face forward.
If your faith is feeling a bit tentative today, like mine, think about this: Peter may have faltered but for one glorious second he walked on water with Jesus while the other disciples were anchored in the boat. Peter isn’t an example of failed faith (and neither are you!); he is an example of faith in practice.
Don’t worry about those who question your actions and don’t long for the safety of solid ground. Jesus will not hesitate to hold you up as you take your first steps of faith in new territory. But, when he asks Why do you doubt? know that it’s because He wants you to experience greater life in Him not because He is chastising you.
Rip up that tired and faithless pro/con list, stop looking for the road ahead because where you’re going you don’t need roads!
This story is published in Koinonia — stories by Christians to encourage, entertain, and empower you in your faith, food, fitness, family, and fun.
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