He calls me out to cross the waters.

But I am hesitant.

The harbor is safe. The docks overflow with provision. I am held in high esteem. My position is secure and my name is known at the gates.

Oh but his voice dances on the wind. I am drawn by his invitation though reason keeps my feet planted in the sand.

The water is perilous and unpredictable. Struggles and temptations are the litany of the water. It is murky with the unknown. Hostile is its nature.

There are storms at sea.

Monsters rise up out of its dark deep and rush waves upon waves of doubt and fear onto the shore. They threaten to capsize and send me adrift should I dare attempt a crossing. Should they engulf me, overwhelm and consume me, I could perish!

But still he calls.
Let’s crossover.

What is on the other side?
Why does he beckon?
I must know.
I cannot resist.
Across the waters I will go.

Quickly all is black of ink and foamy white and shades of gray.

The waters are merciless.

Tempests rise, squalls abuse, hurricanes churn, the waves are icy cold and heavy. They batter and bruise.

The sea is unrelenting.

Run down, I am sinking beneath the waves. Gasping for air, I am at the brink of surrender when I hear that same sweet voice now speak with authority into the chaos.

Then peace.
All is haltingly still.
I will cross over.

What is on the other side?
On the other side is victory.
On the other side is potential.
On the other side is hope.

When I cross over to the other side, the storm surge rolls and withdraws and rushes back into the sea. My adversaries are swept into the very waters that threatened and tried to intimidate me. Doubt and fear are dragged through the sand and into the dark undertow.

Yes.
Let’s crossover.
Let’s walk on water.
Let’s go and know Him
and all He is,
and all He will do,
on the other side.