Drowning
There are a lot of water analogies used to describe law (any) school experience. How are you doing? Swimmingly, up to my eyeballs, deluged, swamped, just above sea-("C") level? I'd say I've been barely treading water.
Which is why I have found Matthew 14 on my mind so much lately.
It is late night following a long, eventful day. Christ and his disciples learned that morning their friend (mentor, cousin) John has been beheaded in prison. Despite their sorrow, crowds have pressed them for more-- of whatever it was that only He could give them -- thousands find sustenance in a few loaves and fishes. Having fed the multitude and now spent and exhausted, Christ separates himself from the throngs for a moment, perhaps to grieve alone. The disciples set off in a ship.
In the dark, the voyagers see something unusual above the water. Is it a ghost? they wonder. Soon it is close enough for Peter to realize: it is Jesus!
Come to me, He invites Peter. And certain of the ability to do whatever it is that Christ asks him to do, Peter leaves the boat and bounds across the waves to his Friend.
Then he notices the waves, and realizes the craziness of the situation. What am I doing? I cannot do this, Peter thinks, and immediately, he sinks.
Save me!
With utmost compassion, the Savior is immediately there, reaching out, pulling up, gently reminding Peter that indeed, for a moment there, he could walk on water; he could do the crazy, impossible thing He had invited him to do. The difference between then and now was only a matter of focus, a matter of trust, a matter of remembering Who it was that had invited him out onto the water.
___
I find myself thinking about this story right now because, let me tell you, I feel like I'm drowning. This has been a hard semester emotionally and physically, with two deaths of close family members, and the perpetual balancing act called parenting while in law school. It is so easy to look at the situation and say, "What was I thinking??? This is insane!"
I am drowning. Save me!
How easy it is to forget Who invited me on this journey, and told me that I could do it.
So, I think about Peter, and I think about that loving hand. And I set off again, to do what feels like impossible.
Which is why I have found Matthew 14 on my mind so much lately.
It is late night following a long, eventful day. Christ and his disciples learned that morning their friend (mentor, cousin) John has been beheaded in prison. Despite their sorrow, crowds have pressed them for more-- of whatever it was that only He could give them -- thousands find sustenance in a few loaves and fishes. Having fed the multitude and now spent and exhausted, Christ separates himself from the throngs for a moment, perhaps to grieve alone. The disciples set off in a ship.
In the dark, the voyagers see something unusual above the water. Is it a ghost? they wonder. Soon it is close enough for Peter to realize: it is Jesus!
Come to me, He invites Peter. And certain of the ability to do whatever it is that Christ asks him to do, Peter leaves the boat and bounds across the waves to his Friend.
Then he notices the waves, and realizes the craziness of the situation. What am I doing? I cannot do this, Peter thinks, and immediately, he sinks.
Save me!
With utmost compassion, the Savior is immediately there, reaching out, pulling up, gently reminding Peter that indeed, for a moment there, he could walk on water; he could do the crazy, impossible thing He had invited him to do. The difference between then and now was only a matter of focus, a matter of trust, a matter of remembering Who it was that had invited him out onto the water.
___
I find myself thinking about this story right now because, let me tell you, I feel like I'm drowning. This has been a hard semester emotionally and physically, with two deaths of close family members, and the perpetual balancing act called parenting while in law school. It is so easy to look at the situation and say, "What was I thinking??? This is insane!"
I am drowning. Save me!
How easy it is to forget Who invited me on this journey, and told me that I could do it.
So, I think about Peter, and I think about that loving hand. And I set off again, to do what feels like impossible.
Comments
Thanks for writing this. It was the reminder I needed.
-Katie S.