Step Out, The Water's Fine

Introduction
Matthew 14:23–33 is set against a backdrop of political unrest, spiritual misunderstanding, and natural unpredictability. The storm on the Sea of Galilee, the disciples’ fear, and Jesus’ divine actions all serve to clarify His identity not just as teacher or miracle-worker, but as God in the flesh—the one who commands creation and calls His followers into impossible places with divine authority. This moment was not just about calming a storm—it was about transforming faith. Jesus was preparing His disciples to recognize His divinity and to trust Him completely, even when the world around them felt like it was falling apart.


Miracles in the Midst of Storms
Have you ever stood on the edge of a decision that felt like stepping into the impossible? Perhaps it was launching a ministry, speaking up about your faith, or making a godly choice when the crowd went the other way. Stepping out in faith often feels like stepping onto water—unsure, unstable, and surreal. But here’s the truth: Jesus calls us not to safety, but to surrender. Not to comfort, but to courage. Not just to witness miracles—but to walk in them.

In Matthew 14, the disciples had just seen Jesus multiply five loaves and two fish, feeding over five thousand people. Spirits were high, the miracle was fresh, and Jesus’ authority had never seemed more real. But then came the storm. And isn’t that how life works? Mountaintop moments are often followed by dark valleys. Joy gives way to testing. And the God who just performed a miracle may now seem hidden by thunderclouds.


From the Mountaintop to the Midst of the Storm
Jesus, after feeding the multitudes, sent His disciples ahead across the Sea of Galilee while He went alone to pray. The disciples, now on the water, encountered strong winds. They rowed against the storm into the fourth watch of the night—between 3 and 6 a.m.—when bodies are exhausted and minds are most vulnerable. These were seasoned fishermen, but the storm was no respecter of experience. Fear crept in like fog on the water. Then, through wind and wave, a silhouette appeared—walking on the sea. Terror took over. “It’s a ghost!” they cried (Matthew 14:26). But then came a familiar voice: “Be of good cheer! It is I; do not be afraid.” The storm didn’t stop. The winds didn’t calm. But Jesus was there—and that changed everything. Sometimes Jesus doesn’t calm the storm immediately because He wants to calm you first. The greatest miracle is not the ceasing of wind, but the silencing of fear.


Peter’s Audacious Prayer
Peter’s next words are some of the boldest in the Gospels: “Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water.” Jesus simply said, “Come.” No explanations. No details about the depth of the water, the strength of the wind, or the number of steps Peter could take. Just “Come.” So Peter stepped out. Let that sink in—he stepped onto water. Faith is not the absence of fear, but the decision to move forward despite it. Peter wasn’t fearless; he was focused. His eyes were locked on Jesus, and for a brief, miraculous moment, he walked on the very storm that once threatened his life. But then came the shift. The wind howled. The waves rose. Peter looked around—and his gaze drifted from the Savior to the storm. Immediately, he began to sink. Isn’t that us? So often we start out strong, full of faith and vision. We launch the Bible study, we start praying with boldness, we invite someone to church. But then... life. Doubt. Distractions. Storms.


“Lord, Save Me!”
In the most desperate moment, Peter cried out: “Lord, save me!” And Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached out and caught him. Jesus didn’t lecture Peter mid-rescue. He didn’t let him flail around to “teach him a lesson.” He lifted him up immediately, then gently asked, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Jesus doesn’t abandon us when our faith falters. He meets us in the water. His grace exceeds our fear. His strength answers our weakness. And His hand reaches even when ours tremble. You may feel like you're drowning in questions, depression, anxiety, or broken dreams. But Jesus doesn’t wait for perfection—He responds to prayer.


Faith That Asks Boldly
There’s a beautiful contrast in this story: twelve disciples saw the miracle, but only one experienced it firsthand. Faith doesn’t just observe—it participates. The others stayed in the boat, watching. Only Peter asked, “Can I come to You?” Only Peter took the risk of sinking so he could experience walking. Too often we settle for safe Christianity—watching others live out powerful testimonies while we sit quietly in the safety of the boat. But Jesus is still saying, “Come.” He’s inviting you to walk with Him in places you’ve never dared—into ministries you feel unqualified for, into conversations you feel unprepared for, into miracles that stretch your limits. Faith will cost you comfort. But the reward? Intimacy with Jesus that no one can take from you.


Why Do We Forget the Loaves?
In Mark’s telling of this story, we find a subtle but powerful note: “For they had not understood about the loaves, because their heart was hardened.” (Mark 6:52) The disciples had just witnessed a miracle—Jesus feeding thousands. But somehow, in the next moment of crisis, they forgot. We’re not so different. God answers a prayer, opens a door, or brings healing—and then, when a new storm hits, we panic as if He’s never helped before. But faith is cumulative. Each miracle is meant to prepare you for the next. Each answered prayer is a reminder: He was faithful then, He’ll be faithful now. If God brought you through before, He’ll bring you through again.


Fixing Our Eyes on Jesus In spite of the Storm
What does it mean to fix your eyes on Jesus? It means anchoring your hope in His character, not your circumstances. It means choosing worship over worry. It means waking up with praise in the middle of pressure and declaring, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” (Job 13:15). The psalmist said it well: “I will lift up my eyes to the hills—From whence comes my help?  My help comes from the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1–2) When your soul feels shaken, lift your eyes. When doubts swirl, lift your eyes. When your prayers seem unanswered, lift your eyes. Jesus isn’t just near the storm—He walks on it. He commands it. He uses it. And He rescues in the middle of it. To fix your eyes on Jesus is not passive. It’s intentional, active, and daily. It’s choosing to: Start your day in the Word rather than on social media. Pray first before venting or reacting. Worship even when you don’t feel like it. Trust when there’s no visible solution. It’s about spiritual posture. Are you sinking in doubt or standing in faith? Hebrews 12:2 says it best: “Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith…” He started your story. He’ll finish it. Stay focused on Him.

There’s something deeper happening in this passage than just personal rescue. Jesus was preparing His disciples for ministry. This moment was part of their training—not for self-preservation, but for world transformation. Jesus knew that soon, Peter would stand before thousands on the day of Pentecost, proclaiming salvation in His name. He knew the disciples would face persecution, imprisonment, shipwrecks, and martyrdom. They needed to know: Jesus is faithful in the fire, present in the prison, and powerful in the storm. Faith isn’t just for survival—it’s preparation for mission. When Jesus climbed into the boat, the wind ceased (Matthew 14:32). And in that moment, the disciples worshiped, saying, “Truly You are the Son of God.” (v. 33) Sometimes, the greatest revelation of who Jesus is comes after the storm.


Prayer
Jesus, I hear You calling me to come. I don’t want to be content with safety when You’re inviting me to something greater. Strengthen my faith, Lord. Help me to trust You more than I trust the storm. When I falter, lift me. When I doubt, reassure me. Use my life to show others that You still walk on waves, still reach through fear, and still call us to be part of Your miracles. In the name of Jesus, amen.