I've judged Peter before. But not today.
I imagine the wind sweeping through his hair, blowing into his face as he calls out to Jesus.
Words come out of nowhere, "Bid me to come to you on the water!"
Peter steps out onto the water and
. . . things change. The impossibility of walking on water and virility of the wind just gets to him.
Talk is cheap. It's the doing that costs.
I feel called. I dream and scheme. I make a plan.
But the moment I take a step toward actually DOING the plan . . . a big step that could be life changing and devastating if I heard God wrong.
I can't catch my breath. Panic.
Can I undo this? This is crazy! Why did I think this was a good idea?!
I think of Peter. And I don't judge his fear of the wind.
My plans are God's. He can do with them what He will.
I am not looking at that wind.
I am not questioning the mechanics of the impossible. That's not my job.
It's my job to put one foot in front of the other . . .
and to keep my eyes on Jesus while I do it.