He wore Wranglers cinched by the smallest notch of a leather belt, with several visible, worn holes that hadn’t been necessary for a long time.
When he entered the sanctuary, he took a seat in the chair in front of me, removed his ball cap, and placed it on the empty chair beside him.
When it was time to stand and sing, he struggled with both — time had made his glasses thick and his body thin.
I noticed the back of his shirt: Marines. The Few. The Proud. His ball cap had VETERAN embroidered in yellow on the crown, a burning contrast to the ash background.
Just before the worship music began, a little boy crossed his path. He, too, wore Wranglers cinched with a leather belt and donned cowboy boots.
The boy, no older than four, held a Styrofoam cup, doing his best to keep himself and the cup steady while following his dad. Looking too long at the cup rather than who he was following, he began to trip on his own feet.
Water splashed upon the concrete floor.
The boy regrouped and kept walking, leaving a puddle in front of the veteran.
The song’s lyrics filled the air, but its message filled my heart: we are called to trust, look to the Savior, step out, and walk on water.
I could not help but wonder how many times the veteran had struggled to stand tall yet found himself walking on water. The child’s puddle before him could have been an ocean in his mind, taking him to old stories that still tangle his thoughts.
One hand he kept open, trying to close it despite arthritis and scar tissue. The other hand he kept waist-high, open-palmed. The man praised the One who had been calling his name longer than I had been alive. I could picture him following Christ, stepping out of the boat and into the approaching wind.
Like the boy who took his eyes off his dad and Peter who became fearful when he saw the wind, the veteran’s glasses began to fog. I could feel the heat rise from his body and see his palm shake as if he were screaming what Peter shouted in Matthew 14:30: “Lord, save me!”
And as the Father looked at the boy and Peter without disdain but focused love, so did Jesus come to the man standing in front of me.
“Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him…” Matthew 14:31.
The reaching out of Jesus was so instant and powerful that even I felt held just bearing witness.
And what did I witness?
A man who wore Wranglers and stood before me: his identity was not built around his pain but in God’s plan.
This column was initially published by CherryRoad Media. ©Tiffany Kaye Chartier.