Ask before you have it together

““Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?””

— Matthew 14:28-31 (NIV)

Matthew sets this in the fourth watch, roughly three to six in the morning by Roman reckoning. The crossing had already gone wrong: a long way from shore, the headwind against them. That lake lies about two hundred metres below sea level, with high ground all around, and sudden squalls there are well documented. Several of the men aboard fished those waters for a living. A fishing boat from that century, pulled out of the lake mud in 1986, measures about eight metres long and a little over two metres across, so nobody sitting in one was ever far from the edge. Earlier the same day a crowd had been fed and their teacher went up a hill alone to pray. A line in the book of Job says God alone treads on the waves of the sea. The shout for rescue is three words in Greek: Kyrie, soson me. Two other accounts of that same night survive, and neither of them mentions anyone but Jesus out there. The rebuke is one compound word, oligopistos, small trust, and Matthew uses it four times, every time to people already walking with him. The last verb here is rare, used twice in the whole New Testament, both times by Matthew. It is built on the word for twice and describes wavering, not refusing to believe. So: the cry came mid-fall, and the grip came at once.

We wait until we have it under control before we say anything. Falling quietly feels safer than being seen halfway down. Maybe it is the moment a child is screaming and you feel yourself about to snap. Maybe it is a call from work or from the doctor that leaves your legs weak. Or maybe it is the night, when your thoughts go round and there is nobody to ring. Jesus answered a shout for help before anything had been fixed. Asking at the worst moment, badly, still counts as asking.

Lord Jesus, I usually wait until I have something sorted before I talk to you about it. Today I want to call out sooner, in the middle, while nothing is in order yet. Reach for me straight away, not after it is over. I do not know how it will turn out. I am asking anyway.