I Confess (and I Hope I’m Not the Only One)

ConfessI Confess (and I Hope I’m Not the Only One)

Around me, young people jumped to their feet as the song leader strummed and a young lady whispered to her companion behind me. I loved that the youth had so much enthusiasm that they voluntarily stood up for the praise song. That started the first tear.

I confess, I get weepy over good praise songs.

The second tear slid down my face as the lyrics worked their way into my soul. Something about walking on water and depending on God to take us deeper than we ever imagined we had the strength to go.

I confess, I love God, but deep scares me.

Pretty soon, my throat closed up so I only mouthed the lyrics as the beautiful voices swelled and echoed throughout the room. I used my scarf to wipe the rivers off my cheeks. I hoped no one would notice my private waterfall (especially Pedro—but I think he’s used to me crying during song service by now).

I confess, I feel as if God wants something from me, but I don’t want to accept what it might be.

The moment seemed suspended in time, the voices crashing around me, my tears mixing with the waves of meaning in each word of the song. Maybe I understand a little better what Peter felt like when he stepped out of the boat.

Peter’s Folly?

ConfessI confess, I used to look with disdain on Peter because he wanted to walk on water.

I thought he wanted to show off—to Jesus, to the other disciples. He’d followed Jesus all over, given up a lucrative fishing business, channeled his political passions into this one unassuming yet powerful man from Nazareth. Maybe he just wanted Jesus to show up in a big way. ‘“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said.” I thought about that scene differently now.

I confess, I don’t want to accept help from God.

It seems wrong to ask for too much, to challenge God in a big way to show up and work in my life. I figure he made me pretty self-sufficient so that I don’t bother him too often. But maybe I don’t want enough. Maybe I want the wrong things.

I confess, I worry that if I accept help from God, he might ask me to do something big.

I confess that I enjoy my comfortable life and I don't want to rock the boat. Click To Tweet

But how can I not, when he has already done something so big for me? And so i bow my head, willing to ask and accept help from the one who freely gives it. I want to abandon myself to the wind and the waves —and the one who wants to help me.

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  1. Amen! I too wonder if Peter knew that it was God and the power God has. If only we trusted like Peter. I want to raise my hands and trust in our God freely too. I’m over in the 6 spot this week.

  2. Dear Anita, it seems you’re not the only one. Longing for more, my foot creeps to the edge of the boat. I think I can do it this time, and then cold water splashes in my face. It’s hard to see and my foot begins to slip. How can I possibly do this thing He’s called me to do? Then suddenly, a hand reaches out and grasps my fingers.

  3. This is me: ” I worry that if I accept help from God, he might ask me to do something big.” If I had been in the boat, the scenario might have played out something like Jesus extending His hand and inviting me to step out on the water. But I would likely have said, “Oh, that’s ok, I’m fine. Here, maybe Peter would like to go.” I accept His help readily enough: I have fallen on my face enough times to know I can’t possibly do it on my own. From His Word and from the times I have accepted His invitation to step out of the boat, I know His grace is sufficient, I’ve marveled and rejoiced at what He has done in and through me. But sometimes it’s still scary, and often uncomfortable and even painful. But I need to remind myself that any discomfort is temporary. “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:16-17).
    Barbara H. recently posted…Book Review: The Story KeeperMy Profile

  4. But maybe I don’t want enough. Maybe I want the wrong things.

    I confess, I worry that if I accept help from God, he might ask me to do something big.


    You nailed it!!

  5. Anita, this was beautiful and so much like looking into my soul. I want to trust and take the dive, but sometimes I am scared. But like you said, He has done great things for us, so let’s jump in. I know as a parent I want my children to accept my help, how much more does father want us to accept his help?
    Theresa Boedeker recently posted…Getting Through the TubeMy Profile

  6. Wow Anita, that was beautiful. You pulled me right in. I recall trying so hard to do everything on my own, and a lot of it was because I…well…it isn’t that I didn’t trust God, but I had learned not to trust that I could receive not only help but what I needed. Life taught me some lessons that I shouldn’t have taken so close to heart. I praise God that He is my Abba Father and I am learning it is okay to let go and ask Him. Thanks for your lovely post. Though this is a Monday, I followed you as your FMF neighbor. God bless you.

  7. I think your decisions are right and you are on right path. The most important thing in our small life is to enjoy our life and do the thing that we are best in and loved to do that work.

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Anita Ojeda

Anita Ojeda juggles writing with teaching high school English and history. When she's not lurking in odd places looking for rare birds, you can find her camping with her kids, adventuring with her husband or mountain biking with her students.

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