Walking on Water

It was dark.
It was windy
and we were confused
and tired.
We had just witnessed
something tremendous;
many, many people fed
from just two loaves
and some fish.
We didn’t understand it
and we were hoping the Master
would explain it to us.
But He wasn’t there.
He hadn’t come with us
in the boat,
so we were alone
with our unanswered questions
and our fears.
He often did this,
went off by Himself
to pray.
I know He needed to do this
but it would have been nice
if He’d been with us
this night,
to talk with us;
to answer our questions;
just to be there.
It was always better
when He was there.
He had this calmness about Him.
We could have done
with that
as the wind grew stronger
and it seemed to get darker
and darker.
Maybe, as I say, we were just
over-tired but
we were all jumpy.
So it didn’t help when
someone called out,
‘There’s a ghost!’
We froze.
But before real panic set in
we heard the Master’s voice.
You have no idea
how good it sounded.
Like I said before
He had a calmness about Him
and as soon as we heard Him
we knew everything would be
all right.

As we moved to make space
for Him
in the boat,
Peter suddenly stood up.
Well, you know Peter,
never predictable.
We wondered what he was going
to do.
After all, it’s not the best thing to do
to stand up in a boat
in the middle
of a storm.
Then he called out that he wanted
to go
to the Master!
To go to Him
Out of the boat,
across the waves, and they were high,
in the dark,
in a storm!
How stupid can you get.
Anyway,
instead of telling him to stay put
the Master said, ‘Come!’ ‘Come!’
And he did!
As we sat there, struggling to keep
control of the boat
and watching, open-mouthed,
Peter got out
and
walked on the water
to the Master.
Well a few steps anyway.
Then he seemed
to start
to sink,
and the Master took his hand
until they were both safely
in the boat.
And the wind died down.
Amazing.
The whole thing.
Amazing.
I know I thought Peter
was stupid
but
I wish,
I wish I’d had the courage
to do that.
What an experience.
I bet he never forgets it.
Amazing.

© Kathleen Wilks