Eyes On Me
Eyes on Me: Walking Through the Storm with Faith
Life has a way of throwing storms at us when we least expect them. Not just the kind that rattle windows and bend trees, but the internal tempests that shake us to our core—the kind that make us question everything we thought we knew about faith, purpose, and our ability to keep moving forward.
Picture yourself in a boat during such a storm. The wind howls mercilessly. Waves crash against the fragile vessel beneath your feet. Every familiar anchor point seems powerless. You can't see a way forward. The chaos is overwhelming, and you're just trying to survive.
Now imagine that in the middle of all that chaos, someone you trust is walking toward you—not from the safety of shore, but directly across the waves that threaten to swallow you whole.
This is precisely the scene we find in Matthew 14, where Jesus walks on water toward His frightened disciples. But the real miracle isn't just that Jesus defied physics. The miracle is what happens next, and what it reveals about navigating the storms in our own lives.
The Courage to Step Out
When Peter sees Jesus walking on the water, he doesn't ask for proof or demand a sign. Instead, he makes a remarkable request: "Lord, if it's You, tell me to come to You on the water."
Peter isn't seeking a thrill or trying to show off. He's expressing something far deeper—a desire to be close to Jesus that outweighs his need for safety. Peter understands an essential truth: being near Jesus is safer than staying comfortable.
Think about that for a moment. The storm is still raging. The waves haven't calmed. The wind hasn't stopped. But Peter senses that proximity to Jesus matters more than the apparent security of the boat.
This pattern echoes throughout Scripture. Abraham stepped into unknown territory with nothing but God's promise. Moses returned to Egypt carrying only a staff and a calling. The disciples left their familiar lives when Jesus simply said, "Follow me."
In each story, God invites His people into forward motion—not because the path is smooth, but because He's already standing where He's calling them to go.
But notice something crucial: Peter doesn't move until he hears Jesus speak. He doesn't fling himself into the water out of raw enthusiasm or blind zeal. He waits for Jesus's word. Faith isn't reckless; faith is listening. Faith is responding to the voice of the Savior above the roar of the storm.
Every one of us has a place Jesus is calling us to step. For some, it might be a difficult conversation we've been avoiding. For others, it could be an area that needs confession or a ministry we've been delaying. Maybe it's simply admitting, "Lord, I need help."
Courage isn't the absence of fear. It's the willingness to move toward Jesus even while fear is present. The boat might feel safest, but safety isn't found where we are—it's found where Jesus is standing.
The Discipline of Focus
Peter didn't sink because the storm got worse. The waves didn't suddenly grow larger. The wind didn't shift from manageable to catastrophic. Peter sank because his focus shifted.
As long as his eyes were locked on Jesus, he walked in supernatural strength. This ordinary fisherman literally did the impossible—he walked on water. But the moment his attention drifted, when the wind became louder than the Word, when the waves seemed bigger than the One who made them, fear replaced faith.
The same dynamic works in our lives. Whatever captures your gaze will eventually shape your steps.
Hebrews 12:2 urges us to fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. This isn't poetic language—it's a practical strategy for surviving the storms that scatter our attention and stir up our fears.
Fixing your eyes means choosing, again and again, what you will look at and what you will not. In practical terms, this means:
Regularly reminding ourselves who Jesus is. When fear grows loud, the heart must reach for remembered truth. The Psalmist practiced this: "I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old." When worry rises, we answer it with truth: Jesus is sovereign. Jesus is near. Jesus is my provider. Jesus holds my future.
Practicing habits that train our attention. Prayer, Scripture, worship, reflection, silence—these aren't boxes to check off. They're spiritual strength training for the mind and heart. As Paul writes in Colossians 3:2, we must "set our minds on things above." Attention isn't passive; it must be aimed.
Leaning on community. No one stares at Jesus alone for long. We need brothers and sisters who will call us back when our gaze drifts. We need wise friends and mentors who can speak clarity into our storms. Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is let someone else remind us where to look.
Responding immediately to fear. When anxiety hits, don't let silence fill with worry. Say something simple and true: "Jesus, I see You." Or like the desperate father in Mark 9:24, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."
Your focus determines your footing. Fix your eyes on Jesus, and your steps will follow Him even in the storm.
When You Sink
But what if you sink? What if, despite your best intentions, you lose focus and start going under?
Here's the beautiful part of Peter's story: when he begins to sink, he cries out, "Lord, save me!" And Matthew tells us that immediately, Jesus reached out His hand and caught him.
Not after a rebuke. Not after a lecture. Not after Peter proved himself worthy. Jesus rescued first. He stabilized first. Only after Peter was safely in His grasp did Jesus speak to him about faith.
This is the economy of grace: rescue before explanation, compassion before correction.
Three truths for every believer who finds themselves sinking:
Rescue comes before discipline. God wants to save you first, teach you second.
Sinking is an invitation back, not a badge of shame. Don't hide in your failure. Get back up.
Learn from the sinking. When Jesus asks, "Why did you doubt?" it's not angry scolding—it's an invitation to reflection. What stole your attention? What convinced you the storm was more potent than your Savior?
Keep Your Eyes Fixed
As we navigate uncertain seasons and face storms we didn't anticipate, the call remains clear: Eyes on Me.
Not on the circumstances. Not on the wind's effects. Not on our own abilities or inadequacies. Eyes on Jesus—the One who walks on water, the One who reaches down to rescue, the One who never changes, even when everything around us does.
Whatever storm you're facing, whatever is threatening to pull you under, there's an invitation today to step toward Jesus. To fix your gaze on Him. And if you're sinking, to cry out for the hand that's already reaching toward you.
The storm may still be raging, but Jesus is in the storm. And that changes everything.
Life has a way of throwing storms at us when we least expect them. Not just the kind that rattle windows and bend trees, but the internal tempests that shake us to our core—the kind that make us question everything we thought we knew about faith, purpose, and our ability to keep moving forward.
Picture yourself in a boat during such a storm. The wind howls mercilessly. Waves crash against the fragile vessel beneath your feet. Every familiar anchor point seems powerless. You can't see a way forward. The chaos is overwhelming, and you're just trying to survive.
Now imagine that in the middle of all that chaos, someone you trust is walking toward you—not from the safety of shore, but directly across the waves that threaten to swallow you whole.
This is precisely the scene we find in Matthew 14, where Jesus walks on water toward His frightened disciples. But the real miracle isn't just that Jesus defied physics. The miracle is what happens next, and what it reveals about navigating the storms in our own lives.
The Courage to Step Out
When Peter sees Jesus walking on the water, he doesn't ask for proof or demand a sign. Instead, he makes a remarkable request: "Lord, if it's You, tell me to come to You on the water."
Peter isn't seeking a thrill or trying to show off. He's expressing something far deeper—a desire to be close to Jesus that outweighs his need for safety. Peter understands an essential truth: being near Jesus is safer than staying comfortable.
Think about that for a moment. The storm is still raging. The waves haven't calmed. The wind hasn't stopped. But Peter senses that proximity to Jesus matters more than the apparent security of the boat.
This pattern echoes throughout Scripture. Abraham stepped into unknown territory with nothing but God's promise. Moses returned to Egypt carrying only a staff and a calling. The disciples left their familiar lives when Jesus simply said, "Follow me."
In each story, God invites His people into forward motion—not because the path is smooth, but because He's already standing where He's calling them to go.
But notice something crucial: Peter doesn't move until he hears Jesus speak. He doesn't fling himself into the water out of raw enthusiasm or blind zeal. He waits for Jesus's word. Faith isn't reckless; faith is listening. Faith is responding to the voice of the Savior above the roar of the storm.
Every one of us has a place Jesus is calling us to step. For some, it might be a difficult conversation we've been avoiding. For others, it could be an area that needs confession or a ministry we've been delaying. Maybe it's simply admitting, "Lord, I need help."
Courage isn't the absence of fear. It's the willingness to move toward Jesus even while fear is present. The boat might feel safest, but safety isn't found where we are—it's found where Jesus is standing.
The Discipline of Focus
Peter didn't sink because the storm got worse. The waves didn't suddenly grow larger. The wind didn't shift from manageable to catastrophic. Peter sank because his focus shifted.
As long as his eyes were locked on Jesus, he walked in supernatural strength. This ordinary fisherman literally did the impossible—he walked on water. But the moment his attention drifted, when the wind became louder than the Word, when the waves seemed bigger than the One who made them, fear replaced faith.
The same dynamic works in our lives. Whatever captures your gaze will eventually shape your steps.
Hebrews 12:2 urges us to fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. This isn't poetic language—it's a practical strategy for surviving the storms that scatter our attention and stir up our fears.
Fixing your eyes means choosing, again and again, what you will look at and what you will not. In practical terms, this means:
Regularly reminding ourselves who Jesus is. When fear grows loud, the heart must reach for remembered truth. The Psalmist practiced this: "I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old." When worry rises, we answer it with truth: Jesus is sovereign. Jesus is near. Jesus is my provider. Jesus holds my future.
Practicing habits that train our attention. Prayer, Scripture, worship, reflection, silence—these aren't boxes to check off. They're spiritual strength training for the mind and heart. As Paul writes in Colossians 3:2, we must "set our minds on things above." Attention isn't passive; it must be aimed.
Leaning on community. No one stares at Jesus alone for long. We need brothers and sisters who will call us back when our gaze drifts. We need wise friends and mentors who can speak clarity into our storms. Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is let someone else remind us where to look.
Responding immediately to fear. When anxiety hits, don't let silence fill with worry. Say something simple and true: "Jesus, I see You." Or like the desperate father in Mark 9:24, "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief."
Your focus determines your footing. Fix your eyes on Jesus, and your steps will follow Him even in the storm.
When You Sink
But what if you sink? What if, despite your best intentions, you lose focus and start going under?
Here's the beautiful part of Peter's story: when he begins to sink, he cries out, "Lord, save me!" And Matthew tells us that immediately, Jesus reached out His hand and caught him.
Not after a rebuke. Not after a lecture. Not after Peter proved himself worthy. Jesus rescued first. He stabilized first. Only after Peter was safely in His grasp did Jesus speak to him about faith.
This is the economy of grace: rescue before explanation, compassion before correction.
Three truths for every believer who finds themselves sinking:
Rescue comes before discipline. God wants to save you first, teach you second.
Sinking is an invitation back, not a badge of shame. Don't hide in your failure. Get back up.
Learn from the sinking. When Jesus asks, "Why did you doubt?" it's not angry scolding—it's an invitation to reflection. What stole your attention? What convinced you the storm was more potent than your Savior?
Keep Your Eyes Fixed
As we navigate uncertain seasons and face storms we didn't anticipate, the call remains clear: Eyes on Me.
Not on the circumstances. Not on the wind's effects. Not on our own abilities or inadequacies. Eyes on Jesus—the One who walks on water, the One who reaches down to rescue, the One who never changes, even when everything around us does.
Whatever storm you're facing, whatever is threatening to pull you under, there's an invitation today to step toward Jesus. To fix your gaze on Him. And if you're sinking, to cry out for the hand that's already reaching toward you.
The storm may still be raging, but Jesus is in the storm. And that changes everything.
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