Water Walker: Episodes 1-4 Part 35

"Help me!" I cried again, now completely desperate.

"Look at me, Eden."

I spun back to him and locked on to his eyes.

"Keep your eyes on me. Don't look at the water. Can you do that?"

I was struck by my intense desire to check the waves again, just to make sure they hadn't grown even more threatening. I had to protect myself from them, you see? I was terrified that a large wave would swamp the boat and leave me flailing in the water.

"Can you focus on me?" he cried above the wind.

"I am!"

"Your eyes are on me, and yet your mind is on the danger presented by the waves," he said. "You still see threat on all sides. As long as you feel the need to protect yourself from that danger, you know that you haven't let go of it. Forgive the sea and put your mind on my word. Hear me!"

"I am! Hurry!"

"I can't hurry, Eden. Only you can. I'm not the one with the problem, you are. The problem will only go away when you decide to let go. There are very few people on this earth who know what it means to truly forgive and even fewer who walk the path of forgiveness. But the power of that forgiveness is staggering. And I do mean staggering."

I saw that I was out of options, because he was intent on leading me to let go of whatever I had to let go of to survive.

"Then tell me how to do it!" I started to look away.

"Keep your eyes on me, Eden!"

I fixed my stare and tried to calm the trembling in my limbs.

"As long as you feel the need to defend yourself against that water, you see it as a threat."

"That's crazy!"

"Then your master was insane as well!"

"What master?"

"Jesus, the first water walker, of course. Why do you suppose he taught never to resist the evil man who comes against you? Why did he say we must turn the other cheek and love our enemies? Because he knew! Hear me, Eden and hear me well: Only in not defending are you ever truly safe. Every time you resist or defend against any perceived threat from the water, you give it power to fulfill that very perceived threat and it will crush you. But there's another way!" His voice rose with intensity. "There's a narrow way that few find but if anyone can find it, it's you!"

"They're right there!" I shoved my finger at the tumultuous waves. "Would you also suggest that I put my hand in a fire to prove it can't burn me?"

"Touche!" He spread both hands and leaned forward. "Dead man walking; now you're talking! Yes! There is a way not to be burned by the fire." He jabbed his finger at the air to accentuate the word is. "There is a way to walk on water. There is a way to move a mountain. There is a way to part the sea. There is a way to be healed of any disease. There is a way to abide in perfect safety and love. And only one way!"

He was talking about Jesus and his miracles, a subject I was altogether too familiar with, though I couldn't remember him walking in fire.

Dear G.o.d . . . how many nights had I spent in prayer, begging for him to make my way straight?

"I do believe!" I yelled. "I believe and look where that's gotten me!"

"Ah yes, they believe what all devils believe. But they don't trust. They have no faith! If you want to be saved from this troubled sea, you must surrender your mad belief in the danger it poses, and put your trust in that which truly keeps you safe instead. Forgive this world and all of its mad threats. Let go! See no harm in that which comes to destroy you because only your costume can be hurt. The real you is always safe in your Father's arms. Always! You are his daughter!"

Spray from the waves was now soaking me, head to foot-I could hardly deny the reality of that water threatening to swamp the boat. But one thing he'd said blared through my mind.

Only in not defending are you ever truly safe.

Could it be? Something about those words struck a chord deep in my bones. His ideas suddenly seemed a little less absurd. For the first time, they tempted me with a kind of deep certainty that I hadn't yet felt. I say tempted because I only saw a glimmer of truth and then only in a single thought: What would it be like to not take any offense at what was done to me, ever? I would never be upset. Ever. What kind of power would such a person have? They couldn't be hurt! They would be invulnerable, like their master.

Outlaw must have seen something on my face because he flashed a smile.

"Yes, you see, don't you? Imagine the power you would have in this life, abiding in this truth alone."

"But . . . how can you not take offense when someone hurts you?" I asked.

"Well, you have to change your thinking entirely, don't you? Metanoia. Repentance, remember? A whole new operating system to transform the way you think and see the world. Being transformed by the renewing of your mind. And that takes faith, Eden. A complete letting go of what you think you know and trusting in what doesn't necessarily make sense at first. Faith."

His words arrested me. What if it was true? It seemed utterly careless and reckless, but what if he was right?

And suddenly I understood even more. These troubled waters around the boat were like the troubles I had with Mother. If I forgave her, she couldn't hurt me. And by forgive, he meant seeing no offense . . .

A twinkle came to his eyes, as if he could read my thoughts.

"Ah, yes, now you are seeing. Forgive. See no fault, even as your Father sees no fault in you. Surrender to this knowledge and nothing can harm you. No storm, no misguided mother, not even a broken leg!"

The simplicity of his words fell into my mind like rays of light that quickened a dormant set of laws deep in my soul, patiently waiting to be brought back to life.

"Step out of the boat, Eden!" he cried, eyes fired. "If you can do it here, in your dream, you will be able to do it when you wake!" He pointed to his right. "Take a leap of faith and see that these troubled waters have no power over you unless you give that power to them, and even then they lie."

I took his outstretched hand to mean I could look at the water, so I did. Fear battered me and I lost my train of thought. All I could see were angry waves.

"Everything in you cries out to remain in the safety you believe the boat offers you, doesn't it? Of course it does! The boat is your defense against the water! But the very defense is what empowers the water to trouble you. Let go of this understanding. Faith, Eden. Faith!"

He thundered the word above the storm and I felt a surge of confidence rise through me-just enough to give me the strength to take a step forward and grasp the hull with my right hand.

But the threat of those waves looked utterly real to me. And the last time I'd stepped out, I'd gone under! And this time he wasn't there to catch me!

"I can't!"

"Well then . . . you'll only drown here in your boat, won't you? You will lie there in your bed with a broken leg, seething with anger and bitterness and you will live in terrible suffering, all because you can't bring yourself to let go of your offense."

He'd said it all matter-of-factly, but he now jumped up next to me and yelled above the story, eyes wild.

"No, Eden! No! You will not take the path the rest of the world takes. You will find the narrow path because it's your destiny! Stepping off the edge may feel like death, but trust me, letting that old self die is no loss."

"I'm afraid!"

"And yet perfect love casts out fear."

"I don't feel perfect love!"

"Nothing can separate you from that love. Nothing! It's already inside of you, only forgotten."

He thrust his hand out to the waves.

"Now step out!"

"You're pressuring me!"

He withdrew his hand and stepped back as if reprimanded.

"I'm simply pa.s.sionate about showing you the only way you can be saved from these troubled waters. I didn't make this stuff up. I'm only sharing it with you."

"Then who did make it up?"

"It's always been this way. You were raised in a monastery, didn't they teach you?"

I was?

Like a blossoming fireworks display, some of the memories so long suppressed by my mind suddenly erupted to life. By that light, I suddenly saw.

My many prayers and invocations.

The simple faith I'd had as a child a long time ago.

A field of flowers under a bright, blue sky, swaying lazily in a peaceful breeze.

And in that vision I suddenly knew that everything Outlaw had said was true. Our Master had made it so. Not the vengeful G.o.d that Kathryn had shown me, but the one who'd calmed the storm and walked on water.

Oh ye of little faith. Peace be still.

Outlaw started to speak, but I was suddenly moving, fixated on the simplicity of the path I saw in my heart, illuminated by even this thinnest sliver of light.

I didn't crawl over the side as I had before. I gripped the hull with both hands, jerked my right foot up and onto the bench-seat to give me a launching point, and, before I could reconsider, I shoved off my right leg and leaped over the side.

I was midflight before my fear vanished completely and I realized what was happening.

Oh, I thought, Outlaw's right. There never was a storm. I only thought there was.

I didn't see the change at first because my eyes were closed, but I felt it when my feet landed in the water. I felt it because I didn't sink.

And then I saw it, because I opened my eyes and saw a crystal-clean surface stretching out in all directions. There were no clouds, no wind, no waves-only water perhaps an inch deep, before turning spongy solid, holding together in a way that prevented me from sinking.

I stared in amazement, stunned. The glossy surface under my feet bowed slightly as I applied pressure.

"Stephen!" I cried, spinning back, expecting to see him in the boat.

But there was no boat. Stephen stood on the water where it had been, arms crossed, smiling wide.

"Now you're talking," he said.

I was so relieved, so excited, so overwhelmed with this turn of events that I let out a squeal.

Outlaw raised his brow. "Indeed."

I walked to my right, testing each footfall, and then marched back.

"I'm walking on water!" I exclaimed.

"You're walking on water."

"Can I run on it?"

"You can dance on it if you like. Do you know how to dance?"

"I don't know. Do I?"

"Well . . . you aren't operating under the old laws anymore. You can probably do anything."

I turned in a circle, still flabbergasted by the miraculous shift that had transformed my world. But even in that, I was wrong wasn't I? The world hadn't changed-I had. Or, more accurately, my perception of the world had changed.

I had forgiven-let go of-the old offense and saw none of the threat that had once promised to drown me. And I'd done it by stepping out of a boat I was sure would save me from all of that trouble.

"So now you know," Stephen said.

"Now I know." I faced him, curious. "But I'm dreaming, right?"

"It doesn't matter. If you think about it, your reality is only as real as you perceive it to be in any given moment, wouldn't you say?"

I got his meaning immediately. "And so all of my troubles are only as real as I believe they are."

He dipped his head. "Bravo, my dear. Now you see."

"Now I see," I said grinning wide. "Nothing can hurt me unless I say so."

His smile softened. "Always remember . . . You have been given the power to forgive any offense, and in so doing, remove it from your awareness as far as the east is from the west. True vision is his gift, allowing you to see no blame; forgiveness is your truest purpose in this life. Seventy times seven, always, leaving the old self in a watery grave and rising to find no fault. That's grace, that's true baptism, and that's good news, wouldn't you say?"

My mind spun. A lump formed in my throat.

"It's fantastic . . ."

"Fantastic." He winked at me.

"Far better than the watery grave my mother baptizes me into each week!"

He nodded. "So then, take care not to forget just how good this news is when your eyes open in your mother's house."

And with that, Outlaw unfolded his arms, clapped his hands together, and vanished.

But then so did I. So did everything.

I snapped my eyes wide.