21 AUGUST 2026
When Jesus Comes Walking on the Storm
"If it is really You, call me."
By Shikha, S.C.M.A. Communications Director
Scripture: Matthew 14:22-33
Sometimes the strangest thing about a storm is that you can be exactly where God told you to be when it comes. The disciples weren't running from Jesus. They weren't being disobedient. They weren't lost.
Jesus had sent them into the boat.
"Immediately He made the disciples get into the boat and go before Him to the other side..."
And then He went up the mountain to pray. The disciples obeyed. And still, the wind came. The waves rose. The boat was beaten by the storm. And Jesus wasn't in the boat.
There are seasons when this is exactly what confuses us about God. "But I did what You asked." "I followed You." "I thought You were leading me here." "So why does everything suddenly feel like it's falling apart?"
We often assume that obedience should produce smooth waters. But Scripture never promises that. Sometimes obedience puts you directly in the middle of a storm. Not because you missed God. But because God is about to reveal something about Himself that calm waters could never teach you.
The disciples were fighting the storm for hours. And then, sometime between three and six in the morning, they saw something. Someone. Walking on the water. They were terrified. They thought it was a ghost.
And Jesus called out: "Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid." Before Jesus changed the storm, He changed what they were hearing. Before He calmed the sea, He reminded them who was standing in it. Isn't that often what we need?
We keep praying, "God, change my circumstances." And sometimes His first answer is, "Look at Me." Because there are storms that will not become less frightening until we become more certain of who is with us.
Then Peter says something extraordinary. "Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water." Peter didn't ask Jesus to bring the water to him. He asked Jesus to call him onto the water.
That is a dangerous prayer. Because sometimes we want Jesus to make our lives comfortable. Peter wanted Jesus to make him courageous. "If it is really You, call me."
And Jesus says one word:
"Come."
Peter steps out. Think about what he leaves behind. The boat. The place of security. The place where everyone else is. The place where his feet make sense. And suddenly, Peter is doing something human beings cannot do. He is walking on water.
But notice something: Peter doesn't walk on water because he is fearless. He walks because his eyes are fixed on Jesus. Faith doesn't mean you stop being aware of the storm. It means the storm is no longer the thing you're looking at.
But then Peter looks away. He notices the wind. He notices the waves. He notices what he is standing on. And suddenly, what was possible becomes terrifying. He begins to sink. And perhaps this is where the story becomes painfully familiar.
Because haven't we all had moments where we were doing beautifully, until we looked around? Until we compared? Until we calculated? Until we started thinking about everything that could go wrong? Until we stopped looking at Jesus and started measuring the storm?
Peter's problem wasn't that the storm suddenly became stronger. His focus changed. And sometimes the storm hasn't changed either. Our perception has.
We can go from: "Jesus called me here."
To: "What if I can't do this?"
From: "God will provide."
To: "What if He doesn't?"
From: "I know He is faithful."
To: "But what about this?"
And slowly, we begin sinking beneath the weight of what we are looking at. But here's the part I love most. Peter sinks. And Jesus doesn't stand at a distance and say,
"You should have had more faith." He reaches. Immediately. Peter cries, "Lord, save me!" And Jesus takes hold of him. Immediately. Before the lesson. Before the explanation. Before the correction. Rescue comes first.
Sometimes we think we have to fix our faith before we can reach Jesus. Peter shows us otherwise. Sometimes all you have left is one desperate prayer: "Lord, save me."
And that is enough to make you reach toward the One who was already reaching for you. Then Jesus and Peter get into the boat. And the wind stops. But something even more significant happens next.
The disciples worship Him. "Truly You are the Son of God." The storm became a revelation. They knew Jesus before the storm. But they knew Him differently after it. They had seen Him feed thousands. Now they had seen Him rule the thing that terrified them. The storm didn't just test their faith.
It revealed Jesus. And perhaps that is why some storms are allowed to last longer than we want. Not because God enjoys watching us struggle. But because there are things about Him we will only discover in places where we cannot save ourselves.
We learn that He is provider when we have nothing. We learn that He is peace when everything is shaking. We learn that He is faithful when we cannot understand Him.
We learn that He is near even when we cannot see Him. And sometimes, we learn that the thing we were begging God to remove, was the very place where we encountered Him most deeply.
Maybe you're in a storm right now. Maybe you obeyed God and somehow ended up in deeper water. Maybe you're wondering why Jesus seems so far away. Maybe you're exhausted from rowing. Maybe you've started wondering whether you heard God correctly.
Look again. The disciples thought Jesus was far away. But He was never unaware of where they were. He saw them. He came toward them. He walked across the very thing they were afraid of.
The waves that terrified them were beneath His feet. And that might be the word you need today: What is over your head is still under His feet.
Your uncertainty is under His feet. Your future is under His feet. Your unanswered questions are under His feet. Your impossible situation is under His feet. The storm may be bigger than you. But it is not bigger than Him.
And perhaps the invitation isn't, "Stop the storm."
Perhaps it is, "Look at Me." Because sometimes Jesus calms the sea. Sometimes Jesus calls you to walk through it. And sometimes Jesus simply reaches down and pulls you out of it. But in every version of the story,
Jesus is there. So keep your eyes on Him. Not because the waves aren't real. But because He is more real than the waves. And when you begin to sink, don't waste your breath pretending you're okay.
Cry out. "Lord, save me." And trust that the hand of Jesus is closer than you think.
A Prayer
“Jesus,
When the waters rise, keep my eyes on You. When I don't understand why You have led me into a storm, remind me that obedience does not mean the absence of difficulty. When I become distracted by everything happening around me, turn my eyes back toward You. Give me courage to step out when You say, "Come." Give me humility to cry, "Save me," when I begin to sink. And when I cannot see You, remind me that You can always see me. Teach me to trust You, not only when You calm the waters, but when You are walking toward me through them. Because what is over my head is still under Your feet.
Amen.”