Summer is finally over. The kids went back to school last week, and I feel like I'm recovering some semblance of sanity (as sane as I get anyway).
With some time to reflect, I've realized how many times over the summer I felt like things were out of control and it was my job to save the day.
The kids were squabbling (or coming to blows). Bills need paying. Kids wanted to be run hither and yon, have friends over to play, and generally pulled me in three directions at once like some kind of Elasto-girl.
In the midst of all that need, I felt like it was my job to walk on water.
When I think of walking on water, Peter immediately comes to mind. Peter. On a boat, battered by wind and waves, trembling as he shouts to what might be an apparition walking on the water,
I think of the old adage,
Only Peter dared step out of the boat (I love him for that), but in the end his fear was his failure (and I hate it when I am Peter). And I think of Jesus' reprimand as he lifts Peter above the troubled waters,
Peter wanted to walk on the water. I feel like I have to walk on the water. And neither of us can.
Last time I read that story, though, I was arrested by what comes before it, the story of what Jesus was doing right before he walked on the water.
Do you know it?
It starts right after the story of the loaves and fishes, the feeding of the 5,000. It's just two sentences. I might have missed it.
He went up into the hills.
By himself.
To pray.
How often do I leave that part out? I see trouble and I go out to save the day.
The wind blows. The waves crash. The children cry out. And I think it's my job to walk on the water.
But I haven't gone into the hills. By myself. To pray.
I haven't given the water over to God. Let him remind me that being in this boat is my job. Walking on that water is his.
I haven't even asked him to call me out. I've just stepped out on my own.
My first step out of the boat should not be onto the water. It should be to the hills, by myself, to pray.
No wonder I spent half the summer feeling like I was sinking.
But now I've sent the people away (for a few hours a day) and I have some time.
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Linking up with Michelle at Graceful for Hear It. Use It. and Jen at Finding Heaven for the Sisterhood
and Anne at the Antbed for Heritage of Faith.
With some time to reflect, I've realized how many times over the summer I felt like things were out of control and it was my job to save the day.
The kids were squabbling (or coming to blows). Bills need paying. Kids wanted to be run hither and yon, have friends over to play, and generally pulled me in three directions at once like some kind of Elasto-girl.
In the midst of all that need, I felt like it was my job to walk on water.
When I think of walking on water, Peter immediately comes to mind. Peter. On a boat, battered by wind and waves, trembling as he shouts to what might be an apparition walking on the water,
“Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.”
I think of the old adage,
"If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat."
Only Peter dared step out of the boat (I love him for that), but in the end his fear was his failure (and I hate it when I am Peter). And I think of Jesus' reprimand as he lifts Peter above the troubled waters,
“You have so little faith,” Jesus said. “Why did you doubt me?”
Peter wanted to walk on the water. I feel like I have to walk on the water. And neither of us can.
Last time I read that story, though, I was arrested by what comes before it, the story of what Jesus was doing right before he walked on the water.
Do you know it?
It starts right after the story of the loaves and fishes, the feeding of the 5,000. It's just two sentences. I might have missed it.
Immediately after this, Jesus insisted that his disciples get back into the boat and cross to the other side of the lake, while he sent the people home. After sending them home, he went up into the hills by himself to pray.
He went up into the hills.
By himself.
To pray.
How often do I leave that part out? I see trouble and I go out to save the day.
The wind blows. The waves crash. The children cry out. And I think it's my job to walk on the water.
But I haven't gone into the hills. By myself. To pray.
I haven't given the water over to God. Let him remind me that being in this boat is my job. Walking on that water is his.
I haven't even asked him to call me out. I've just stepped out on my own.
My first step out of the boat should not be onto the water. It should be to the hills, by myself, to pray.
No wonder I spent half the summer feeling like I was sinking.
But now I've sent the people away (for a few hours a day) and I have some time.
Now my eyes look to the hills. (May my feet follow.)
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.
(Psalm 121)
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Linking up with Michelle at Graceful for Hear It. Use It. and Jen at Finding Heaven for the Sisterhood
and Anne at the Antbed for Heritage of Faith.
You. are. amazing.
ReplyDeleteYour words are so what I needed to hear right now, in language that I can clearly understand.
Dear Sweet Kim,
ReplyDeleteYou are so very tender of heart. Your words are always filled with humility before your Father. I love to read what He is teaching you and how you are always such a willing student. :) Would you please consider linking this up with the Antbed on Friday? If you'd rather not, that's fine. But, on Fridays I host a tiny little link up where I encourage people to testify to His Faithfulness in their lives. It is such a blessing to read these posts and I know others would be blessed by your testimony here. Thank you, either way, for giving Him Glory! :)
Seriously, Kim, this post rocks. And yeah, I missed that part like a hundred times, too -- the praying before the walking on water part. I feel depleted by summer, too -- here's to a revival and rejuvination and rest this fall.
ReplyDeleteLoving you...and glad you are writing again now that the dust has settled...
Beautifully written and it pierces my heart. I need to spend more time on the praying and less trying to walk on water. Because when I try the whole walking on water thing I sink faster than Peter!
ReplyDeleteI clicked here the other day and was interupted (darn kids!)...glad I found my way back.
ReplyDelete"I see trouble and I go out..." Yep, that's me.
I really like this, Kim.
Thank you, dear!! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for pointing out what Jesus was doing before the water walking. I've never seen anyone do that before and it is an excellent point. Very encouraging post. I've been running to the water first myself and find myself sinking in circumstance. I'll try going to pray first. Thanks again!
ReplyDeleteSo much wisdom in your words. Thank you so very much for this helpful lesson, today, and may God bless you richly. Visiting from the antbed.
ReplyDeleteThis resonates within my heart tonight. A pastor I heard recently said in his sermon, "One cannot be publicly powerful until one is privately prayerful." May I find myself along with you on a hill everyday.
ReplyDelete