More Than One Man Has Walked On Water

I was reminded of something recently – by my best friend, Nate Feathers – that I haven't been able to stop thinking about.

Jesus wasn't the only person who walked on water.

Peter did too.

There was a storm.

Wind. Waves. Chaos.

Jesus came toward the disciples on the water, and Peter said:

Tell me to come to you.

Jesus said:

Come.

And Peter stepped out of the boat.

And walked.

That's the part we forget.

Peter actually walked on water.

Until he looked at the wind.

Until he noticed the waves.

Until he became afraid.

And then he began to sink.

I thought about that this morning because life has been fucking hard lately.

And maybe yours has too.

There are bills.

Businesses.

Marriages.

Children.

Work.

Things that need fixing.

Things you don't know how you're going to pay for.

Things happening that you absolutely cannot control.

Wind and waves.

And here's what I've noticed in myself:

The more I stare at them, the smaller I become.

I get anxious.

I get stuck in my head.

And I can be sitting fifteen feet away from the people I love most and not actually be with them.

That's why I keep saying:

Presence isn't proximity.
It's participation.

But here's what struck me this morning:

Self-regulation isn't merely some nervous-system hack so you can feel better.

It's what allows you to turn your attention back toward what matters.

To your wife.

To your children.

To the work God put in front of you.

And ultimately—

back toward Him.

The wind doesn't disappear.

The waves don't disappear.

You still have to move.

You still have to make the phone call.

Earn the money.

Repair the marriage.

Lead the family.

Do the work.

But you don't have to worship the storm.

Peter sank when the storm became bigger in his attention than Christ.

I know how easy that is.

I've been practicing a simple prayer almost constantly lately:

I yoke myself to You.

These problems are here.

I see them.

I'll do my part.

But I surrender what I cannot carry to You.

Help me keep my eyes on You.

Because the goal isn't a life without storms.

It's becoming the kind of man who can walk through one without losing himself, his family, or his faith.

That's a huge part of why I built PATRIARCH.

Nine men.

Three days.

Fatherhood. Marriage. Faith. Leadership. Self-mastery.

Not another collection of information for men to consume.

A place to become more capable of carrying what we've been entrusted with.

Your family doesn't need you to control the storm.

They need you to remember where to look when it comes.

Godspeed,

Rob

P.S. PATRIARCH is coming September 11–13. If you know it's time to become more intentional about the man, husband and father you're becoming, come join us.