Last week, I wrote about why we stay on the shore. Why we believe in God, trust Him with our eternity, yet hesitate to trust Him with our lives. Why we choose safety, control, and predictability. And it’s not because we lack faith, but it’s because the shore feels familiar. So, what does it take to walk on the water, the water of life? Let’s talk about stepping out.
This week, I want to move the scene just a few feet forward. Let’s move from being on the shore to being on the boat.
For many of us, the issue isn’t that we’re standing far away – that’s another blog post. But for many of us, we’re already in the boat with Jesus.
We’ve gone from the shore to the boat, and still… we don’t step out.
The Boat Isn’t the Problem
When we read the story of the disciples in the storm, it’s easy to judge them.
Why were they afraid? Why didn’t they trust Jesus more? Why didn’t anyone else step out of the boat?
But the disciples weren’t weak or immature. They weren’t disobedient either. They had been with Jesus for a bit and knew who He was and what He could do.
But they were human.
The boat represented what had always kept them afloat:
- Familiar skills
- Previous experience
- Something solid beneath their feet
Yes, the boat is a step forward from the shore, but to me, it is still not living. The boat isn’t sinful. But it is still safe.
Just like for the disciples. Just like for us. The boat is where we learn to survive.
What the Storm Is Really Made Of
The storm in this story isn’t just weather. It’s a mirror. Because storms don’t scare us unless they remind us of something we’ve already lived through, so now we fear them.
The Waves
The waves represent overwhelm. They are the memories of past failures. The moments when things went sideways. The seasons when you tried…and it didn’t work.
Waves say:
“You’ve been here before… and you barely made it.”
They don’t shout lies. They echo experience.
The Wind
The wind represents voices. The opinions of others. The pressure to be sensible. The inner critic is shaped by years of expectation and comparison. The programming that has been embedded into us, into our brains, by others, by culture, by society.
The wind says:
“This is foolish. You’ll look ridiculous. Stay where you are.”
It’s loud, relentless, and hard to ignore.
The Storm
The storm represents unresolved fear. Fear that once protected you and that helped you survive earlier seasons. Fear that still believes danger is imminent…even when love is present.
The storm says:
“You are not safe.”
And the truth is, fear feels convincing because it was once necessary, and it isn’t lying. But, it’s outdated – it’s the past.
Why Fear Feels So Real
Fear feels real because it doesn’t come from nowhere. It comes from:
- Loss that wasn’t processed
- Pain that wasn’t named
- Disappointment that reshaped expectations
Fear kept you afloat when the water was too much. But what once protected you can eventually imprison you. Fear is often a survival skill that no longer serves a loved child, a child of God.
That’s why the storm feels louder than the invitation, “Come.”
Why Peter Walked…and the Others Didn’t
As I mentioned in last week’s post, Peter didn’t step out because he was braver, or bolder, or more spiritual.
He stepped out because, for a moment, he trusted who was calling him more than what surrounded him. His identity, who he was in Christ, was louder than the storm.
The others stayed because the waves told a more familiar story than love did. And I don’t say that with judgment – been there, done that. I say it with compassion.
Learning to Walk on Water Isn’t About Courage
This is important. Becoming a water walker is not about:
- Ignoring fear
- Pretending the storm isn’t real
- Forcing yourself to “have more faith.”
Water walkers aren’t formed through heroics. They’re formed through healing.
Through naming what the waves represent – see “waves” above.
Through letting God reinterpret the storm and the lies they represented.
By allowing love, perfect love, to speak louder than memory.
Walking on water doesn’t mean the storm disappears. Not at all.
It means the storm no longer defines reality. Our Three-Dimensional world has programmed us to believe the things of this world more than His word.
How We Begin to Walk
We don’t start with a leap or unrealistic vow. And it can’t be done by pressuring ourselves into it. But try these three practical movements.
1. Name the Storm
What still feels threatening to you?
What fear keeps you in the boat?
2. Remember Who Is Calling
Jesus doesn’t say “Try harder.”
He says, “Come.”
3. Take One Faithful Step
Not into chaos.
But into trust.
Into belonging.
One step is enough.
Living Above What Once Overwhelmed You
Last week, we asked: Why do we stay on the shore?
This week, we see: Because the storm still feels louder than love.
But living the kind of life Jesus promised begins when fear is named, not obeyed. And when the past is acknowledged and not allowed to dictate the future.
When we stop asking, “Is this safe?” and start asking, “Who is calling me?”
That’s when people become water walkers.
Not because they are fearless.
But because they are loved.
Challenge of the Week: Name the Storm
Name the Storm – This week, don’t try to step out yet. Just notice, and ask yourself:
- What wave still feels dangerous to me?
- What story does it tell?
- What fear has been protecting me but is no longer needed?
Name it, without judgment or allowing it to stop you in your tracks. Because becoming a water walker doesn’t begin without movement. We always must “put shoes on it,” which begins with the truth. Who He is and what He does is love, and He is already standing closer than you think. Perfect love casts out fear. So be it.
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