I’m challenging you to dream big, walk on water, and step out by faith. That’s what Peter did when he was in Galilee on the boat, and Jesus invited him onto the unknown. He stepped out by faith. Let’s read the story, and as you do, think about your dreams and what God is calling you to do.
“But Jesus immediately said to them: ‘Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.’ “‘Lord, if it’s you,’ Peter replied, ‘tell me to come to you on the water.’ “‘Come,’ He said. “Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” “Immediately, Jesus reached out His hand and caught him. ‘You of little faith,’ He said, ‘why did you doubt?’ “And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped Him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God’” (Matthew 14:27-33).
Peter did the impossible, even if only for a few steps. And notice, when the scene was over, and everyone was in the boat together, all the glory and awe were directed to God. Dreaming big and stepping out is not about you and me; it’s about bringing praise to God. When you have a dream from God, you have to step out by faith.
God-inspired dreams make room for the impossible because God is the architect and the One Who fulfills the dream. Our role is to obey what He tells us to do. And you can have the assurance that God gave you that word. One word from God can change your life forever. Faith moves the hand of God and turns the head of God.
In 1983, a terrorist attempted to kill me on my birthday, the 30th of June, and he killed two people on the way to my home. After that happened, a spirit of fear came on me. And I realized I needed to confront it. So I decided to go to the heart of terrorism, Beirut, Lebanon. If you remember the events at that time, you’ll understand what an awesomely big dream that mission was. I had a dream to deliver Bibles, food, and medical supplies, and minister to the U.S. troops stationed there.
I gave them all pocket New Testaments. Many of them were dead the next morning. All those Marines—killed by an evil terrorist plot. After the horror of the attack on the barracks that took the lives of 241 Marines, our group headed for Nahariya, Israel, on the border. Driving south, I made several wrong turns that took us into Tyre and into the midst of the funeral of a Hezbollah operative. Our vehicle was a rental car from Jerusalem with the distinctive Israeli license plate—not a good thing to have when you’re surrounded by raging, grieving terrorists. Somehow God blinded their eyes, and we were able to get through the city.
Once we reached the outskirts, I made another wrong turn. Instead of going to Nahariya, I headed down a dirt road toward Damascus. Soon our vehicle was spotlighted and tracer bullets raced overhead, then 33-millimeter shells began to explode in the desert near us. To make matters worse, our car’s engine sputtered and died. We had left Beirut so quickly, I had forgotten to check the tank. Now we were lost on a desert road, amid hostile fighters, and out of fuel. There seemed no way to survive. It would only be a matter of minutes before our vehicle would be blown to shreds.
As I began to petition heaven for our safety, I was startled by a knock on the car window. Despite my brave face, I jumped at the sound. This is it! We’re going to meet our Maker on the backside of nowhere. God help us! But to my relief, standing there was a young Arab man with his head covered by a kaffiyeh—the traditional Arab head scarf. Instead of a weapon, he was holding a fuel can. I wondered how he could possibly have known we were out of diesel.
He walked to the back of the car, removed the fuel cap, and poured the diesel into the tank. He then came back around to the passenger door and pointed at the lock. I hesitated only briefly before pulling up the lock. He opened the door and climbed inside. “Drive,” he ordered. I had no idea where he was taking us. I looked in the rearview mirror at my passengers, shrugged, and complied. For more than thirty kilometers the young man did not speak another word, only pointed in the direction he wished the car to go. After what seemed like hours, he barked, “Stop.” The young man opened the door and climbed from the car. He slammed the door, stuck his head back inside, and said, “Safe.”
I turned to look at my friends in the back seat—but when I turned back, the man was gone! We were out in the open. There was no place for him to disappear as quickly as he had. No one spoke a word until we drove over the border into Israel. One of my friends looked at me in awe and asked, “Can you explain what just happened?” I could not, other than that God had answered our prayers for safety. When God is involved, no challenge is too great and no dream is too big.