Peter

My little wooden vessel, it sits upon the waves
The sides are rocking fiercly,
"But its safe in here," I say

But I hear my name through the wind
A voice is calling me,
It beckons me to follow. "Come to me," it says.

I look down at the dark, cold sea
I tremble, quite afraid.
But I take a step outside the boat, water cold beneath my feet.

And there, on the horizon, the voice who calls me stands,
Unafraid and strong.
He treads the waves like they're dry land.

I take my faltering steps, my gaze on Him affixed
But the wind is raging,
And looking down, I slip

Down into the dark abyss, I can feel myself sinking
The waves they smother me,
I wonder what I was thinking

In panic, I cry out His name,
His strong hand reaches down
And grips mine; He pulls me above the waves

"Why do you doubt?"
He asks me,
And what answer can I give?

I respond the only way I can,
I worship the One who Lives.