A brief meditation designed to snap you back into the restoring power of God’s love.
2026-08-16
When a storm strikes during the night.
Have you ever paddled a canoe into a strong wind? I was on a lake when a calm summer breeze suddenly turned into a strong headwind. It was stressful to feel the wind churn the water, rock the canoe, and sap my energy as I was nearly going backwards. I felt frustrated and panicked, afraid of capsizing. Thankfully, the wind eased, and a few minutes later I returned to land safely, though exhausted.
My brief experience on the windy lake was a flash compared with the seven or eight hours that Jesus’ disciples had been fighting frantically against a windstorm threatening to sink their boat. It was around 3 a.m., and they were now fearing for their lives. We can assume that life vests hadn’t been invented yet, and the boat was their only hope of survival. Then, to turn their fear into terror, they saw the silhouette of a man walking on the churning waters, coming towards them. They thought it was a ghost and cried out in fear. But it wasn’t a ghost; it was Jesus coming to their rescue. Let’s continue this inspiring story in Matthew’s account:
But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”
“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” (Mat. 14:27-28)
Last Sunday, we read this episode in the disciples’ lives. This is a story of fear, faith, and salvation, but above all, it is a story about Jesus. We see Jesus defying the laws of physics and logic as he comes to help his troubled pupils. See how the first problem Jesus addressed was not the wind or the sinking boat; it was the fear in his students’ hearts, because fear blurs our vision more than a stormy sea at night. In the darkness of fear, we won’t be able to recognize Jesus amid our troubles.
Peter had the heart of a pioneer. He wanted to resolve the situation at once and prove whether this absurd water-walker was, in fact, Jesus. Peter asked him to “tell” him to walk on water, too. The Greek word κελεύω (keleuō), translated as “tell” here, also means to order, command, direct, or bid. Somehow, Peter knew that only if Jesus led, commanded, and directed him could he do it. There, we have the starting point of faith; it is Jesus who starts it. At that point, Peter was not thinking about his own abilities or strength, not even about the storm; his eyes and trust were on Jesus, but not for too long…
“Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” (Mat. 14:29-30).
Jesus ordered Peter to come to him, and against all human logic, Peter walked on the stormy waters. As long as he kept his eyes and trust on Jesus, he couldn’t pay attention to the wind; he wasn’t listening to his own mind and reason telling him how absurd the situation was; he wasn’t even believing his own experience telling him that a floating boat was the safest and only way to survive. “But when he saw the wind…” We can’t see the wind, especially in the dark, but we see its effects, and our minds acknowledge the invisible force that moves the waters and everything else. For Peter, the invisible wind became more real than the visible, audible presence of Jesus with them, and even more real than his own personal experience of walking on water by faith. Peter’s fear returned, and faith gave way to the palpable, but temporary, reality of the storm. Interestingly, Peter, still in fear, was able to trust that Jesus could save him from drowning, so he cried out to him for rescue.
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” (Mat. 14:31)
I’m not sure how many times I have read this passage, but I still marvel at the saving grace of Jesus. How many times does our faith get shaken and almost drown in the storms of life? How many times do we boldly decide to obey God and let Jesus command us to walk on the threatening, shaky waters of our troubled darkness, only to see the strong wind of fear snatch away our attention and the trust that belongs to Jesus alone? Still, Jesus, our faithful Saviour, reaches out to catch our shaky hand. He knows we are “of little faith,” but the question he wants us to answer, for our own benefit, is “why did you doubt?” What in this world feels more real than Jesus coming to us and us going to him? May we learn to keep our eyes on the absurd yet perfect reality of Jesus and not on the obvious but temporary storms of this life.
In Christ’s love,
Alvaro Palacio
Speaking of Life
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