OIL on Canvas
I felt like this poem my Brother Jacob Durham wrote belonged together with Walk on Water. Enjoy.
STEP OUT!
If I could sail across the sea,
how great the praise of men would be.
To brave the storm, “the Ocean King!”
A greater prize there could not be
So I set out to brave the water,
My boat and I, my strength my rudder.
My goals were set, my future planned,
But winds oft’ deal an unseen hand.
At first the waves were wild and new,
The mast would shake, but skies were blue.
Each sway and swell made balance rare,
Yet I grew bold with every dare.
I’d rise then fall with humbled groan,
Then slowly claim the strength my own.
Little wins began to show,
And bit by bit, I found my flow.
I learned to steer, to read the skies,
To brace for waves and ride the tides.
Where 6 foot waves once saw me fail
Now 10 or 20 foot swells I’d scale
I laughed at winds that once brought dread,
I scoffed at warnings others said.
“I need no help”, the sailor cried!
“There’s nothing left I cannot ride!”
Praised by men, I’d risen tall,
“I’m Ocean King! I’ve conquered all!
Me and my boat we’ll overcome,
All raging storms beneath the sun.”
————
But storms are teachers cloaked in gray—
And pride, it has a price to pay.
While growth can sometimes make one wise,
Where Huberous festers, wisdom dies.
And then it came—the storm unscaled,
My courage cracked my wisdom paled.
The sea grew ominous, vast and black,
And all I’d built began to crack.
Beyond 10, or 20, or 30 feet tall,
A monstrous wave a deadly wall.
I thought me strong and wise and brave,
Beneath this force I saw my grave.
The wind screamed truths I’d long ignored,
The rain exposed what pride had stored.
No sail or rope could pull me through—
“I’m at my end, what can I do?”
I cried for help, though none was near—
And in the waves, through veil of fear,
I saw a figure, firm and bright,
A calm within the tempest’s fight.
Upon the waves—yes, on the sea—
He walked where no one else could be.
Above the roar he called to me:
“Step out!” He pled, “Reach out to me!”
“But this is madness,” I replied,
“If I step out I’ll surely die.
I need no help, I’ve been just fine
This too shall pass. I’ll be just fine.”
My ship may shake, may crack and wail,
But all I know is how to sail.
The ocean King my name’s not frail
I trust in me. I will prevail
So crack it did and mast blew down,
The ocean claimed the mortals crown.
Where I once stood firm upon my feet,
I faced the facts. I faced defeat.
The figure pled, His voice like flame,
“You will not live if you remain.”
Something within me pulled and stirred,
“It’s time to leap” a still voice was heard.
Humbled, scared, I left the deck,
Each step a test, each breath a wreck.
The laws that I once thought were true,
Were cracking underneath my shoe.
Each step a question, half a prayer,
Each breath a tremble in the air.
And where I once would turn and flee,
I found His gaze could anchor me.
The waves still surged, the sky still tore,
But doubt gave way to something more.
For step by step, though unsure still,
My foot would rise, then plant, then still.
No sudden gift of perfect grace,
Just faith enough to find my place.
And though the deep still raged below,
I felt His hand close round my own.
————
And there amid the chaos vast,
I found His peace, He held me fast.
I turned to him, submission whole,
I turned to Him, full heart and soul.
A wave of Peace a crash of Love
His mercy bold but like a dove
Not of the world but of the son
He brings new peace I am undone.
He asked me then to shed those things,
That men would praise, the worldly dreams.
Those things I once thought set me free
Those empty things, my vanity.
What once I held with great esteem,
My crown bowed down, my Lord my king!
His crown not just for men to praise,
A crown of Grace with power to save.
The storm bowed too and then withdrew,
I did not seek my boat anew.
My soul now hungered something more,
I sought what he would have in store.
Though storms still rage—as they will do—
Walking with Him all truth is new.
As my perspective slowly changed,
My Northern Star was rearranged
—————————
But why the storms I turned to ask?
Why must we bear such heavy tasks?
And through His eyes, he helped me see,
The storms don’t break they strengthen me.
For in the storm, the soul can grow,
Where comfort never dared to go.
For me to reach my destination,
I must become a new creation.
He showed my past and let me see,
The times I fell were good for me.
He showed me how each crashing wave,
Could lift, not drown—the ones who brave.
Sometimes of our own creation
And others divine origination
But each a tool in the master’s hand
I trust his work, I trust his plan.
No longer tools to break or bind,
The storms become a sacred grind.
For trials, when seen through Heaven’s eye,
Are not what crush—but what refine.
Though I still shutter and I strain,
as I experience growth and pain,
I look to Him condescender of all,
The healers touch who breaks my fall.
And when I trust in his design,
And as the smith my heart refine.
He takes this stranger once I knew,
And gives re-birth, forms something new.
————
My old life, though it kept me dry,
Could never teach my soul to fly.
But walking where He called me to,
I found what sailing never knew.
I once chased crowns of fleeting fame,
For worldly praise, to make a name.
The ocean king—my highest dream,
Now seemed empty bleak and lean.
But now I walk where mortals sink,
On higher plains my mind can think.
No earthly crown, no hollow prize—
But endless growth beneath His eyes.
One with him, his work to do,
His glory exceeds all I once knew.
To lift the low, calm other’s skies—
Teach other sailors how to rise.
I thought to sail across the sea
The praise of men excited me
To brave the storm, “The Ocean King!”
I thought in that I’d find my dreams
But those were chains of vanity,
in Him I find a better me.
refined, renewed, reframed remade
The King of Kings, I seek his name.
Though I’m still broken, far from done,
And need the storms to find His son.
I pray he’ll keep me in his love,
And seal me to his throne above.
—————————————-
The end.
