He Walked Into the Storm

We picture it like a painting.

Peter, bold and wide-eyed, stepping out of the boat onto glassy water.
The moonlight glinting off the ripples.
Jesus standing just a few feet away, calm and steady, hand outstretched.

It’s framed like a still shot from a children’s Bible,
but look closer and that frame hides the chaos raging just outside its edges.

Pull the camera back and you’ll see it:
Black sky.
Screaming wind.
Waves slamming into the boat like fists.
Rain soaking everyone to the bone.
Every muscle in Peter’s body already aching from hours of rowing against the wind.

This was no quiet stroll on a calm lake.
Peter stepped out into a raging storm.

And here’s the part we often miss,
Even after Jesus appeared.
Even after He called Peter by name.
Even after Peter took those impossible steps…
the storm was still roaring.

That’s when Peter looked away.
And that’s when he started to sink.

A Long Night on the Water

Matthew tells the story in chapter 14, but the scene begins hours earlier.

Jesus has just performed one of His most famous miracles: feeding more than five thousand people with a boy’s small lunch. It’s the kind of moment that could have turned into a full-on revival meeting. The people are amazed. The disciples are riding the high of a miracle they could see, touch, and taste.

But Jesus doesn’t let them linger there.

“Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd.” (Matthew 14:22)

They push off from the shore as the light fades. The Sea of Galilee is surrounded by hills, and it’s known for sudden, violent storms. This isn’t a sightseeing cruise for them. Many of these men grew up here, fishing these waters since childhood. They know this lake. They know its moods. They’ve spent more of their lives on a boat than off it. They know the difference between a rough night and real danger.

And this? This is danger.

The wind rises and the water turns mean. Matthew says the boat was “buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.” They row for hours; three, maybe four miles, according to John’s Gospel. They are soaked, cold, and physically exhausted. Their muscles ache from the effort. Their nerves are frayed from the pounding waves.

It’s not until the darkest part of the night, somewhere between 3:00 and 6:00 a.m., the “fourth watch” when exhaustion is deepest, that they see something.

Fear Before Recognition

Through the spray, they catch sight of a figure moving across the water. At first, fear spikes, they think it’s a ghost. The wind is still howling, the waves still pounding, and their exhausted minds can’t make sense of what they’re seeing.

Then they hear His voice cutting through the wind:
“Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

Peter calls back, “Lord, if it’s You, tell me to come to You on the water.”

It’s a request that mixes faith and uncertainty. He’s not entirely sure it’s Jesus, but if it is, he knows that the safest place to be, even in the storm, is with Him.

Jesus says one word: “Come.”

Peter swings his legs over the side of the boat and steps down. For a few moments, it works. His feet stay on top of the waves. The impossible is happening.

The Storm Still Raged

And for a few steps, as long as his eyes are fixed on Jesus, the chaos holds him up.

But then reality intrudes.
Not the reality of gravity, but the reality of fear.
He notices the wind. He sees the size of the waves.
The same storm he was in before Jesus appeared is still raging around him.

And in that moment, the storm’s voice is louder than the Savior’s.
He begins to sink.

The Immediate Hand

Immediately, Matthew is careful to say it, Jesus reaches out and catches him.

There’s no delay. No hesitation. No requirement to “believe harder” before his rescue. Jesus holds him close and after Peter is safe within His embrace, he then asks, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

And here’s another detail we miss: the storm doesn’t stop until they climb back into the boat together. That means there’s a stretch of time when Peter is being held by Jesus  while the wind and waves are still raging around them.

Why That Matters for Us

We can be safe in Jesus’ hand while the storm is still howling.

At Mending the Soul, we see this truth every day. Survivors step into healing with courage, but the effects of trauma don’t vanish overnight. Old fears resurface. Shame whispers. The waves of life keep pounding. And yet, he holds us.

Faith doesn’t mean pretending the storm is gone.
It means trusting the One who won’t let you sink in it.

Control vs. Surrender

One of the hardest parts of a storm is losing our illusion of control. We don’t like to admit it, but if we think we can manage things on our own, we resist surrender.

If we row harder.
If we bail faster.
We tell ourselves, “If I can just push through, I can make it.”

But the storm is stronger. And at some point, we run out of our own strength.

Surrender happens when we realize Jesus is walking toward us, inviting us to Him, and that we’d rather be with Him in the middle of the storm than without Him in the safety we've imagined.

What Stepping Out Looks Like Today

For Peter, stepping out of the boat meant risking his life in a very physical way. For us, it often means risking our hearts.

It might be:

• Telling the truth about your story for the first time.
• Joining a support group.
• Calling a counselor.
• Letting someone close enough to see the mess you’ve been hiding.

It’s not the absence of fear that makes these steps possible; it’s the presence of Jesus.

The Storm Makes You Look Away

We love to talk about Peter’s lack of faith, but storms do what storms do: they demand your attention. They’re loud, chaotic, and all-consuming.

Even after you’ve heard His voice.
Even after He’s called you by name.
Even after you’ve miraculously stepped toward Him, the wind and waves still demand your attention.
That doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you human.
And when you start to go under, He doesn’t roll His eyes or fold His arms. He immediately reaches for you.

The wind may still be wild.
The waves may still rise.
The night may still be long.
But He is closer than the spray on your face.

Closer than the fear in your chest.
Closer than the memories that grip you.
Closer than the storm itself.

He walks on what you fear.
He calls you by name.
He will not let you sink.

If you’re in the middle of a storm today you don’t have to wait for it to end to meet Jesus. Look for Him in the wind. Listen for His voice. Step toward Him.

And if you start to go under, remember: His hand is already reaching for you.