22 Immediately after this, Jesus insisted that his disciples get back into the boat and cross to the other side of the lake, while he sent the people home. 23 After sending them home, he went up into the hills by himself to pray. Night fell while he was there alone.

24 Meanwhile, the disciples were in trouble far away from land, for a strong wind had risen, and they were fighting heavy waves. 25 About three o’clock in the morning Jesus came toward them, walking on the water. 26 When the disciples saw him walking on the water, they were terrified. In their fear, they cried out, “It’s a ghost!”

27 But Jesus spoke to them at once. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Take courage. I am here!”

28 Then Peter called to him, “Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.”

29 “Yes, come,” Jesus said.

So Peter went over the side of the boat and walked on the water toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the strong wind and the waves, he was terrified and began to sink. “Save me, Lord!” he shouted.

31 Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him. “You have so little faith,” Jesus said. “Why did you doubt me?”

32 When they climbed back into the boat, the wind stopped. 33 Then the disciples worshiped him. “You really are the Son of God!” they exclaimed. (Matthew 14:22-33, NLT)

I am walking on water. I will take control. I can do anything. I will never let the engine of self-reliance sit at idle.

It used to be a V6, then it upgraded, more and more. V8, V10, V12, W16… It is strange. The larger the engine grows, the more powerful I becomes. It feels fantastic to sit behind the wheels of this absolute machine of an engine.

Is this a feature or a bug? That the more I choose self-reliance, the stronger my engine becomes? This was an off-the-cuff analogy, but it kind of makes perfect sense—am I moving too fast? Does too fast of an engine mean that I will crash even harder? That the risk of fatal injury becomes greater? Should I even be afraid? Or just enjoy the supercar?

To be completely honest, I might be massively exaggerating my capabilities. My engine might not be a V12, after all. But I think the fear of not wanting to be broken down, not wanting to crash and burn, is a real one. Why must one suffer to learn? Really, I feel that there is nothing wrong with how I am living life currently, and don’t feel a need to lean on something divine to make sense of my suffering.

Nonetheless, I cannot underestimate the turbulence of life. I’ve known and heard of so many instances where everything really collapses. In recognition of this feature/bug of life, I think I learn something profound about the way God moves in these situations.

I tend to think that it is quite naive to think that God is personal. Personal, meaning we can wield God’s power in a way that is favorable to our lives. If anything, I think my hope lies in the fact that God has the best interest of everyone. All we need to find is how best to live according to that best interest.

Jesus, in this story, and also in the sinking boat amidst the storm a couple chapters earlier, isn’t quite rescuing us. I have a feeling that the storm would have subsided over time, that the raging waves would calm down in its due time. But I think the difference lies in how broken we become amidst the storm. The more it consumes us, the more broken we will become. And while that breaking, just like how a muscle needs to tear before it grows, will continuously make my sheer ability greater, I also think that my strength doesn’t necessarily make anything easier for me. If anything, the challenges, the responsibilities, and the duties I will face will grow bigger and more daunting.

Should I expect God to take these things away from me? No, I don’t think so. On the contrary, I think I would much rather be thankful that I have been entrusted to carry these responsibilities. That God, for some reason, sees me as capable. But I can tell that there lies a difference between facing this storm alone, and facing it with a partner. Just like how it can be easier for a couple to support each other than they can on their own. The sum being greater than its parts. Though I think I’ve so far managed to stay upright on my own, I am curious how great it would be if I could face greater challenges, and thus greater contributions to humanity, with the help of a partner.