To follow you out of this vessel, the work of my hands
The work of men
To meet you among the swelling waters
your Father's craftsmanship
I should not doubt, for you are always good
Surely, you, would not let me drown
But as the waves engulf me, and darkness wipes out your face, I fear
you have invited me to death
"What kind of Messiah are you?" will be my last bewildered thought.
And then I feel your strong hand grab my own
You draw me to yourself, out of the depths
Your voice gentle and unquestionable
The voice of God
And now I doubt which was better, to stand on the water with you,
or to be rescued out of it by you.
We return to the boat, my heart ashamed by the relief it feels
to be on familiar ground
Your eyes lock on mine
The smile of The Son
And now I know
I will be walking on water from now on.