If You Want to Walk on Water, You Have to Get out of the Boat...

I am not a risk taker.  I have a planned budget.  I course out my trips on GPS instead of just driving  I order the "safe thing" on the menu at the sushi place.  I fill up my tank of gas at half full.  I have an annual physical with all the tests, and two teeth cleanings and exam.  I follow doctor's orders.  I follow all the rules.  I am a "by the book" kind of learner.  I often find myself in awe of the few friends I have who on whim of emotion quit their job, traveled the world, fell in love, and took risks to find love in the strangest of situations.  I am scared.  Scared of failure, loss, and not being independent.  I am scared of drowning.

I am all these things by nature, but I was caught by the title of a book about 10 years ago, "If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat" by John Ortberg

  

 The book referred to the story of Jesus on the sea of Galilee and his disciples were in a boat.  They were on the boat at night (something I am also slightly terrified of) and they fall asleep.  A storm rolls in.  It's a big one.  The boat is crashing back and forth, back and forth.  They see what looks to be a ghost.  Peter, one of the disciples, hears Jesus calling him to come out to him.  All the others are afraid and yell for him to return.  Peter steps out, takes a few steps, and realizes he is away from the boat.  In fear, he cries out for Jesus.  He is too far from the boat but he is sinking.  Jesus grabs him, saves him, calms the sea, and everyone is in awe.  The book goes on to talk about and process how true leadership depends on God, not our own ability, to survive the storms.  It discusses taking changes with faith in God. 

First of all, I am not Peter.  I would have never left my secure fishing job to be a "follower" of a man in a tunic who wore sandals and healed people.  I am not the kind of person who "follows their gut" or "just trusts their heart".  If God would not have personally shown himself to me in my life countless times, I would still be skeptical of him.  Second of all, if for some strange reason I had been on that boat, I would be the one farthest from the edge, shivering, and screaming at Peter to get back in.  I would be worried about my own survival and that would include needing to feel like I had the safest path available.

Today, was my first day back to work.  I was nervous all morning with a stomach ache.  I felt like I was stuck and settling for a job I don't enjoy simply to pay my bills.  Recently, I had a few major changes at my practice which was encouraging me to believe in myself more and more.  The numbers are almost at my goals for myself, but not quite there.  So while I had contemplated with transitioning to private practice, the fear of not having that solid paycheck scared the crap out of me.  While I was on my break, I saw things with a clear head.  I was always anxious about returning but I kept pushing myself to do what was safe.  In the process, I started to realize all the things I had been boggled down with before I left, and I soon felt suffocated as I returned to all of those old things and a few new things at my old job.  By the time the day was over today, an overwhelming weight filled my head and heart.  Here I was leaving an environment I liked, doing a job I hate.  Not because I hate therapy, but because I hate a system of health care that has become from clients who have no ownership in their treatment and the government that regulates that system of care. 

The storm was brewing in my heart all the way home.  Restless, I started to feel like the disciples on the boat.  Alone, on the sea, in the dark, in the storm, but then, I think about my options...

A few months ago in church our pastor did a sermon about Peter walking on water.  He talked about anxiety and our "unbelief" and our anxiety with God.  Even Peter who was brave enough to step out was overcome by fear and had to be rescued.  I started to think about how I could not stand to be in this position, but I also was so scared about doing anything else because of the money that I was paralyzed.  I find myself in fear not just over my own lack of ability, but over God's ability to rescue me when I fall. 

For the last two years, I have worked with my partner to create a pretty awesome private practice.  We have contracts with insurance, we have an awesome play therapy room, and we have deep clinical conversations and staff cases.  Each of those cases get the attention they deserve and I feel good about the work being done because I know I provide quality care to people who are invested in their treatment.  I feel happy after sessions, not weighed down.  I feel engaged.  I feel pushed.  I am self-motivated.  The momentum has built and now I have a small caseload of people who want to grow and heal.  I love what I do there.  But in my head I know just how many cases I need to match my other income.  I know I am not there yet.

So here I am tonight.  And I realize, I can't do this.  I can't work two jobs.  I am in the storm of my life and I can't do it.  The safe bet would be to leave my private practice, keep the consistent job, but leave my dreams.  That's safe.  But then I got this idea.   What if, what if, I quit my day job and just streamlined all this energy into my practice?   

What if, I stepped out of the boat, out of my comfort zone, and tried to walk on water?

As I typed my resignation letter, I prayed, "God, carry me.  Help me".  Trembling hands on the keyboard...  like Peter's feet as they left the side of the boat.  "Please God, if this is your will make it Thine...  "

A few short hours later, my bosses boss calls to talk me back to the boat of safety.  Part time?  Anything?  What should I do?  My faith waivers.  I start to fear being successful again.  Start to think about being safe in numbers but not in emotion.  I shake, I sink, I remember, "it's ok to say I'll think about it". 

So here I am, a few steps from the boat.  Unlike Peter, I can still turn back.  I can still go back to safety.  God probably wouldn't blame me, but I think I might always wonder, "what if I just took a chance on myself".  The only thing weighing me down is money.  The only one who I should really turn to is the Lord.  I bet Peter never said to himself, "Gosh, why didn't I just stay in the boat... walking on water and sinking and yelling for God was so stressful that I just wish I had stayed safe".  I bet he was on his cross dying thinking, "remember that time God where you carried me?  Here I am again, carry me home".  I want to have a faith that even in the face of death I know I will be ok.  I know He will carry me in the water when I start to sink.  I want to realize that it's not by my ability that I succeed but it's by God's grace that I am carried in those moments when only he can support me. 

I am still trembling.  I am so scared.  Scared I'll drown, fall, fail, or lose it all.  But I also feel like God's calling me to come to him on the water.  He has shown his promises to me before and never failed.  He has provided so much more than I ever dreamed... love, job, marriage, home, license and the biggest miracle of all, my baby.  So how can I doubt?  How can I fear?   But how do I walk?

Everyone I talked to tonight is cheering on the boat.  They know this is my dream.  They see me far more highly than I see myself.  I've never taken a chance.  I've never just jumped.  What if this time I did?  What if I didn't look back or look down, but what if I just look forward?  What if for once, I looked at God with trust, faith, hope, and love and said, "here I come"?  What if Peter got on the water, ran to Jesus and then embraced?

I anticipate I'll be like Peter.  I plan to continue my resignation in the weeks to come.  I am sure there will be moments in the months to come where I want to jump back in the boat but I am too far out.  My only hope will have to be in the Lord and I know before I sink, he'll catch me.  I don't know what lies ahead but I know I have to try.  For once, something screams go out to him.  Trust.  Some how being a mother has made me be a risk taker if it means a better life for my child.  I can't be safe and be happy.  I can't keep breaking down just to pay the bills.  I have to take a risk and try a new way.  So here I am... on the edge.... no turning back... I can't.... I have to keep walking forward.