Walking on Water.

"Storm. Definition - a violent disturbance of the atmosphere with strong winds and usually rain, thunder, lightning, or snow."

A violent disturbance of the atmosphere, suitable words to describe the world we’re living in at the moment. We are not living in a time of peace.

'Walking on Water'

I’m often afraid. Too often. At times, fear infiltrates even the most mundane parts of my life, and it feels very much like a brewing storm. Anxiety is like waking up to heavy black clouds each morning, fearing I'm about to get swept up in the waves and thrown overboard.

So, I've decided to learn to walk on water. I think it'll be helpful. Would you like to join me?

The story of Jesus walking on water is a famous one, but I believe we're all invited to step out onto the waves. Through reading these passages over and over, I've found it helpful to break it down into 4 simple steps:

1. Accepting that sometimes, we all find ourselves in choppy waters.

You don't have to struggle with anxiety like me, to feel like you're living with your head barely above water. Life can be turbulent for even the most resilient of people. We all find ourselves in a storm at one time or another, visible or invisible, and the greatest kindness we can extend to each other is the assumption that its not always blue skies and still waters, no matter what things my look like from the outside.

Are you in a storm right now? If not, someone you know is. To be human is to experience different weather fronts in this life, the sunny days and the rainy days. Let's not be thrown off guard when we find ourselves there.

'Walking on Water' - Progress Picture

He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them.

2. Sometimes, we can't get ourselves to shore, and that's OK.

When things are difficult, trying to get out of the storm in our own strength can be exhausting. I can completely relate to the disciples in their futile attempts to get to shore. I can imagine them rowing, and rowing, and rowing, throughout the night, in darkness, battered by the rain, their hands probably blistered and bleeding, with the shore never appearing any closer. Sometimes the wind is just too strong.

There is no shame in being unable to get there alone. I recently found myself in the GPs office weeping over my decision to start anti-depressants because my anxiety was just too much to handle. After 5 years of rowing, my hands were just too sore to carry on. Rowing for me was things like journalling, fresh air, daily walks, praying more, better diet, counselling, mindfulness, all good and helpful things, but for the first time I found myself completely burnt out from the effort, exhausted, and no closer to shore. Sometimes the winds are just too strong.

But this is the moment Jesus appeared to them. When they came to the end of themselves. Have you ever reached that point?

When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

3. Recognise your fears

What are you afraid of? No, really? We're all afraid of something.

There's a reason that the word's 'do not be afraid' are repeated so many times throughout the Bible, it's because fear is a terrible captain. It takes us in circles, never really helping us arrive at where we hope to go, in fact, sometimes quite the opposite.

It's interesting that the disciples were afraid of what they thought was a ghost. Fear often distorts our vision and causes us to focus on the wrong things. The disciples were in very real danger of drowning, and yet it was the 'ghost' that caused them to cry out in terror. Like them, are we really aware of what we fear most?

Could your fear of missing a work deadline be masking your fear of not being enough? Or your fear of becoming ill mask your fear that this life is all there is? Is your fear of your spouse leaving you masking your true fear that you're not worthy of love?

It takes courage to do this kind of self reflection, but only until we truly recognise the storm we're really facing can we be elevated above it.

4. Raise your gaze, fix your eyes on Jesus.

The real miracle of this story is Peter. The very ordinary fisherman doing the extraordinary, of being brave enough to step out of the boat and find himself being elevated above the waves, of miraculously walking over the danger, even if it's just for a moment. The miracle isn't in Jesus removing the storm, but for giving His dear follower the opportunity to rise above it.

It brings me comfort that this is considered a miracle. It’s a supernatural phenomenon to be immune from sinking beneath the surface of the waves. So often I tell myself that I should be able to weather these storm myself. I should be able to dance on top of the waves and not be impacted by the challenges, but that’s not what this story tells me. This story tells me that it’s a miracle, a miracle not accessed through my own strength, but through focussing on God Himself.

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!”

His ability to walk on water hinges entirely on where he chooses to fix his eyes.

It's all about where we fix our eyes.

With Peter's eyes fixed on the loving gaze of Jesus, Peter rises above the waves and he performs the miracle, when he fixes his eyes on the waves, he sinks.

I am guilty, of going about my day looking at every crest of every wave that passes by, of staring deeply into the abyss of the turbulent seas, or watching the dark clouds gather, forgetting that if I just choose to raise my gaze, there is quite a different perspective I can take.

The drawing 'walking on water' is reflective of the difficulty I find in doing just this. Someone once asked me why Jesus is so small, and the honest truth is that too often, it's because I make Jesus too small in my own life. The waves are in focus, they take up the space, they're the first thing I look at, even still. But if I take my eyes towards the horizon, there is always Jesus, waiting to meet my eyes, inviting me to step out of my illusions of safety, to take a different perspective.

I guess this is my hope for every piece of Christian artwork I create. For myself, for others. To offer out an invitation to fix our eyes back on Jesus. To meet his loving gaze and rise above the waves of life's challenges, to learn to walk on water.

If these drawings help you do that, then what a blessing that is to me.

With love,

Sophie