Trusting Like Peter: Learning to Trust Jesus in the Leap
Letter from Kelly Deehan
Photo by Chelsey Shortman
Dear Sisters,
One day in college, I remember being struck by the Gospel of Jesus calling Peter out onto the water to walk with him. Although this was a familiar passage to me, this was the first time I read a reflection that focused not on Peter losing trust and beginning to sink, but on his leap out of the boat. I felt a new connection to Peter based on my own leaps in the last few years. I had heard those calls to come out onto the water and I had leapt out of the boat. I was able to hear that call and leap, but found that the continued journey towards Christ was more difficult, just as it was for Peter.
Today I write to you, currently living in the aftermath of another leap. I accepted a position in a graduate program that would send me to live and work in an unknown place and to live in community with people I did not know. I chose this over options that were clear, over paths I could see. The idea of knowing where I would like and how I would spend my days seemed like the certainty I should crave in making a decision about my next step. Just a normal masters program where I would spend the next two years studying what I loved seemed like it should be a great idea. Why wasn’t the clear path the obvious one?
I came to this decision through the realization that even with all the unknowns, this path brought me a sense of peace and certainty. It was shocking. “But I felt like the fact that I am more certain about something with all these unknowns means something.” I said this out loud in a phone call with my brother while trying to decide and the words struck me as they came out of my mouth. That sense of peace and certain belonging was clear. It was in this program that I felt His voice, felt Him assuring me through small gifts that seemed meant just for me to help me come to understand in my own way.
My yes was to a Masters in Theology and the opportunity to serve the Church simultaneously by working in full time parish ministry. Come the fall after my graduation, I would find myself in Tennessee, many states away from home and the people I love. Now I spend my days working with almost all ages, but especially a lot of tweens and teens, in this new community I am a part of. It is certainly interesting to show up in a new place and minister to a community in which you are still certainly the outsider. I am most definitely outside the boat here and learning my way. But not everything is different. Teenagers are still teenagers wherever they are, and the people who surround me here are happy to help me find my way, trying to welcome and love me, when I decide to let them.
I look back now, almost a year after this decision, and I see myself as the thrill seeker who focused so much on the next leap, convinced that these leaps were the core of discipleship. I spent years eagerly sitting on the edge of the boat, just waiting for the moment to jump in, for Jesus to say “go.” I could not wait.
To say I didn’t like that sitting, waiting, and listening would be a lie. I craved it. I loved the excitement and possibilities of the unknown, without yet having to endure the change it would bring. I spent too much of my college years sitting and planning it away, unappreciative of the present, and just dreaming up this bigger and better “next step.” I sat on the edge of the boat, just hoping Jesus would call me out on the water, to do something “great.”
Handwritten quote from the writer
Today, I write to you from the water. The boat has floated out of view and sometimes it feels a little sink or swim, often forgetting that walking is actually the goal. Some days are spent on top of the water and some days in it. I end up in water when I believe the lie that I am alone, or that I need to be capable of taking care of myself or happy without the love and care of others. I tend to look down too much, feeling that I am incapable of the task before me or I feel like Jesus is too far away and I’ll never get there.
This is when I start to sink. I lose my gaze. I lose my trust. I take too seriously the skill of walking on water, as if it was ever something I could ever be capable of on my own. This Christian life is walking on water. It is a miraculous gift we are called to. But he doesn’t call any of us to be capable of it on our own. Sisters, he is calling each of you to Him, but also through Him. He didn’t call Peter to dive in, to just make the grand gesture. He called Peter to come closer to Him.
What has Peter shown me most? When to call out. Peter, as the always passionate man I love, jumps and sinks with the same passion. Again and again Peter tries, fails, and runs back to Christ, asking for His help. When we don’t do the same, we surely begin to sink. We sink under the weight of our own expectations. The weight of believing we are expected to be self reliant.
I reached a day a couple months after moving when none of the pressures I had placed on myself could be contained or managed anymore. Months of emotions explode out of me into several hours of uncontrollable tears when someone simply asked, “is everything okay?” Finally, I was forced to stop pretending. It was the end of pretending that I was capable of holding it all together and didn’t need to rely on Jesus for every little thing. But on that fall day I was sinking quickly and I had no choice but to yell out to Him. I was sinking because I couldn’t admit that change was hard or that being far away made me lonely. I would start to sink when I thought that I wasn’t living up to my own expectations of growth for myself. Believing that my success at “adulting” was a spiritual feat was just setting myself up for failure. I felt that to admit I was lonely was to say that Christ wasn’t enough to fulfill me.
“Be right there, Jesus. Just fixing my life. Sorry I’m such a mess right now.” These words pulled me down. I trusted Him, but at a distance. I thought my worries were too little for His help, too small to bother Him with. I knew that He still “had me” but wasn’t really asking Him to hold me and walk with me like I truly needed. I still felt that I needed to hold myself together and handle all of the transitions of my life without His help.
I somehow forgot that my most honest prayers usually sound like confessions of a teenage drama queen and for some reason thought now was a good time to “grow up,” to start pretending like I was capable of holding it all together and not showing up to Him gushing with every thought and worry. Not that the way I prayed wasn’t dramatic but it wasn’t letting Him in on all of it, not being honest with myself or Him. And he has never once asked me to grow up and handle things on my own, I put that on myself.
When I say those things: “No big deal. I just need to work harder to handle this. I’ll be right there.” I’m looking down, stressed, and not asking for help. But then my gaze is lifted up. I see Him. I gaze at Him and Him back at me. I choke out the words “please, help. I don’t know how to do this.” He is overjoyed with my request and I rise and begin to walk again. I make those steps forward again. Still with some trepidation. I share my fears with Him and He continues to call me towards him, holding my gaze, accepting my growing trust. He invites me to be close to Him, to know Him better and let Him help me love Him more. I begin to repeat to myself, and to Him, “Jesus, I trust in you” with every step.
The jump was only the beginning. Yes, we have to get out of the boat, but this here is the true work and the true miracle you get to be a part of. He calls us to the walk with Him on the water. Join me and as we learn to trust Him in every step.
With Love,
Kelly
About the Writer: Kelly is a Masters student in Theology as part of the Echo Program at the University of Notre Dame. She spends most of her year working in parish ministry in Tennessee and her summers in Indiana taking classes and enjoying the beauty of the quiet campus. She hopes to continue to work for the Church, in whatever form that looks like in His plans. Kelly is originally from Maryland and has a deep love for D.C. after spending her undergrad years there at Catholic University. She is most happy outside, reading a good book with iced coffee in hand. She loves to travel and explore new places, hoping they might surprise her with cozy bookshops or fields of sheep.
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For Your Reflection:
Pray about it: Are there areas of your life where Jesus might be inviting you "out of the boat" right now? Open your heart to the Lord and turn to Him in prayer saying, "Jesus I Trust in You"
Write about it: Share a past experience you have had with taking a leap of faith. How did God reach out to you while you were "in the water?"
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