Why did you doubt?

This past week I used a slow work day to finally get to that task I had been avoiding: copying my Word files to my new laptop (or newish, since it's been several months!). Unable to shed my file pack-rat tendencies, I keep nearly everything I've ever written--work, personal, and college documents alike. Perhaps I simply enjoy the nostalgia of browsing through my old thoughts. Or maybe it's akin to the feeling I get when I hear about people who read books and then promptly sell them to the nearest used book store or on half.com. In any case, I have trouble letting go.

As I was sorting and categorizing the messy wake of my college files, I came across a writing assignment that really spoke to where I've been in the last months--full of doubt about God's ability to navigate me through the foggy future. And with no other blogging topics niggling at my mind, I thought I'd at least post something to not let myself get out of the habit. (And that's the lovely thing...you are always free to plagiarize your own work freely! Though, of course, it wouldn't be plagiarism in that case.) So here it is:

Why did you doubt?

Matthew 14:22-33

You wouldn’t expect those who are already walking on water to doubt. They appear to be feeling the water under their feet like a concrete sidewalk, doing what most people only dream of. They are the firm foundations I look to as heroes. While they may do heroic, noble things, it is still important to remember they have the same type of problems I do.

It’s easy to read the story of Peter walking on the water and judge him for his lack of faith. At this point, Peter had seen Jesus raise a young girl from the dead along with many other miracles. Presently he was already walking on the water, there were no if’s; he was doing it. Yet, he still doubted. “Of course,” I think to myself, “I would have never doubted like that.” The whipping surf and black thunderheads would have all faded into mere background static as I confidently walked toward Jesus, my eyes firmly fixed on his face. But before my pride solidifies, I remember how soon I too look away from Christ to watch the turmoil around me. He, not the wind and waves, fades into the background, and I can’t recall what faith feels like. I might appear strong, even look like my feet are boldly skimming over the water, but inside I’m sinking and seeing only waves.

I’m not sure what I would say to the question, “Why did you doubt?”. There doesn’t often seem to be a logical answer, not with all I have heard and experienced of God’s power and faithfulness. I guess the only answer would be that I focus on the things around me; the wind and waves are often easier to listen to than the truth I know. Trials seem to give me spiritual Alzheimers, and that which is so familiar to me escapes my memory. My answer to the questions most often is that of Peter. “Seeing the wind, [I] bec[o]me frightened” (14:30) and the water no longer holds me up. I live the paradox of believing, yet still say, “Help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24). Yet, Christ offers grace for those times I doubt, I just must not become too prideful to say, “Lord, save me!” (14:30).