He sent them ahead while he climbed up alone,

The evening grew dark and the shoreline was gone.

The wind stood against them, the waves struck the side,

A small wooden vessel on black Galilee’s tide.

Near morning they saw what no sailor expects:

A figure came walking where deep water stretched.

Fear filled the boat till his voice crossed the spray,

Courage replaced it when terror gave way.

Over the water, against wind and night,

He came to the boat with the storm underfoot.

Peter stepped out when the command was heard,

Faith found a path on the strength of a word.

One foot from timber, then both on the sea,

Eyes fixed ahead where the Master would be.

For moments the impossible carried his weight,

Then wind filled his hearing and fear changed his gait.

The water took hold and the courage grew thin,

A cry for salvation broke out as he sank.

No delay in the rescue, no distance between,

A hand caught the disciple before the deep sea.

Little faith trembled where bold faith had stood.

Why did the doubt rise when the word still was good?

They entered the vessel; the violence was done,

The wind lost its voice before God’s living Son.

Over the water, against wind and night,

He came to the boat with the storm underfoot.

Peter was sinking; his hand did not fail.

The sea became quiet, and worship filled the sail.

The storm asked a question.

The boat gave its answer.