Storms overcome those who follow Christ’s voice and step
onto the water. I sank in the fear that washed over me when human strength was
weak and faith began to waiver. A wall of icy water crashed against my head
with a surgery gone awry. A fatal car crash, a weight I couldn’t shake dragged
me down to the bottom. I tried to cling to something solid, but it crumbled
with a rejection, and the opportunity slipped through my fingers. I bumped
against the goodbye I couldn’t say, a barrier between me and the sky.
Something warm and rough grabbed my hand. I clung to the
carpenter’s calloused fingers. He lifted me up. I breathed again. Relief was
sweet in my lungs. Beneath his feet, the waves became a peaceful pathway. He
walked easily, though I slumped against him, and I knew he carried the weight
of two. Hands lifted me back aboard. I relaxed against the hewn wood sides of
the boat of my former life. It looked the same, but I am not. I have been
through the storm; I am changed. I cannot stay here. My Lord’s voice calls from
the waves. I must step out again.
A short bark crashes through my thoughts and douses me with
reality. The golden orb has overcome her shyness and climbed above the
hilltops. I tear my eyes away from Tiberius and peel off my extra layer. “I
suppose it’s time for breakfast.” I give voice to dog’s morning reverie.
