I am walking on the lake when I hear it.

Absolutely nothing.

The snow makes no sound when it falls to the Earth. My breathing is silent - the only proof that I am alive by the fog that escapes from my lips. I am alone with my thoughts. I take a deep breath and I whisper, "It's going to be okay."

The crisp air shelters me. I feel alive. Human. Imperfect.

Then a voice sounds within my soul: "Be still," it says.

I step along the lake, listening carefully to any indication of danger. But still, I dance with it. The ice does not crack and neither do I.

Peter.

I hear you. I see you. I watch you walk on the water. I sense your fear and it is similar to mine. "You of little faith."

Breath of mine; you fill my lungs. It is when I hear these words that I exhale and poison escapes my body:

"Be still and know that I am."

The voice is of God's.