The following events play out like a vision or a vision-like dream.

The camera fades in from black, slowly, with the sounds of a storm coming into audible range at the same rate that the image becomes clear, until we see a close up on the water’s surface of a lake.  In its refracting depths we see lightning and hear deafening thunder, both of which are repeating themselves at a fevered rate.  The camera is panning along slowly, we see the water sloshing around, being tossed violently back and forth.  The camera stops panning along the surface of the water and pans upward, revealing a terrible storm, the likes of which are rarely seen on the surface of the Earth.  The water is so violently moving that we see ships being tossed up high by massing waves, only to be dropped as the waves collapse, letting the ship smash itself to pieces on the surface of the water after falling for many stories.  The debris lingers on screen only for a moment, before it is swept away by another rushing wave, several stories high.  Chaos is portrayed as the storm ravages and destroys all semblance of order that once existed around the lake.  Lightning this whole time is arcing through the sky at what seem like random, chaotic intervals.  Some bolts are thick and cause small explosions on whatever land they hit.  Others are thinner but cascading across the sky, lighting up the night as if it were day.  The whole time this is going on, recognizable scenes from humanity’s past flash into view.  At various intervals, one-second-or-less video clips pop into view of things like war, gang violence, riots, news clips of markets dipping steeply downward, murder scenes, mug shots of various men, and other such assorted things.  These clips are accompanied by the overlapping of their respective audio tracks, short snippets of angry screaming, parents sobbing, worried newscasters saying something about severe joblessness, etc.  The entire observable world is in the throes of utter chaos.

The camera fades slowly to black, and the audio fades along with it, going from deafening roars and chaotic clips to a still silence.

The camera fades back from black to the surface of the water again.  It resumes its previous panning speed.  Again, the lightning is seen refracted along its scattered surface, again the sounds of the storm deafen.  The camera maintains its pan, however, and does not look up to see the rage again.  Very slowly, a dim glow comes into view from the upper right of the screen.  The glow gets brighter, and the water both becomes illuminated and slightly more transparent.  The glow reaches a maximum saturation point, and a foot comes into view.  Where it lands, the water stills itself completely.  Ripples move lightly outward from where the foot lands within the calmed area, indicating the slightest contact with the surface of the water.  The other foot comes into view, and we come to see a calm and steady stride being made, one step at a time.  Each foot is as dry as if it were standing on dusty land itself.  The hem of a robe, white as white can be white, sways gingerly along the bottoms of the legs of this walker.

Step.  Step.  Step.  Step.  Each step is as measured and regular as a metronome.  The storm still rages on in our ears, we hear the waves yet crashing in close proximity.   For those paying attention to it, the water that rushes towards these feet lose all forward momentum and motion once they draw near the presence of the feet.  It’s as if the forces of physics that drive them are suddenly ripped away from them, leaving only gravity to do its job.

The camera suddenly cuts away to the raging storm.  Some of the debris from the earlier wreckage and a new ship are picked up by a surging wave, and smashed into a rocky shore, shattering wood and throwing wet splinters everywhere.  It’s as if the storm is raging all the harder, getting worse as time goes forward.  There’s no telling how much of the lake has already been poured out onto the land, up and out from its natural container.

We next see something resembling a battle of montages, with clips of storm footage (and the modern-day troubles of mankind that it represents) and different angles of shots of the feet battling each other for screen time.  As we see the montage of the storm coming to an intense and fevered pitch, with a small twister forming on the shore and descending into the water, this footage also competing with the shots of the feet, we see the feet come to a gentle, willful stop.  We see the lake in all its chaotic power throw itself upward into the spinning funnel of the twister, the twister’s girth increasing exponentially each moment, growing to a massive and threatening size.  The camera cuts back to the feet--they stay where they are at.  The camera cuts back to the twister, it is swelling in size and in strength.  The camera cuts back to the feet, and we see the slightest effect of wind on the whitest-of-white robes.

The camera cuts back to the storm, the funnel cloud as the centerpiece of this cacophonic maelstrom.  The archive news footage and clips that accompany the storm begin to arrive chronologically at modern day.  We see the most recent bad news, the most recent tragedies.  The water level of the lake is visibly dropping from the massive amount of water caught in the funnel cloud, the edges of the lakebed visible from the lowered water level.

With the raging storm still in view, and the deafening storm still raging around us in surrounding sound, the camera cuts to a side shot of The Son of God staring unafraid and at peace at the malevolent monster of a storm towards the left of the screen, a small ways in front of Him, as His robes sway slightly in a strong yet gentle breeze.  Behind Him, we can see that there is a path from Him to the shore, where He walked, where the water is completely calm and still.  On either side of that path the waters surge, but along the path itself, serenity finds itself defined.  He is still too distant to see closely from this angle, because we can see both Him and the storm in the same shot.

The camera now moves to a close-up shot of His face, His hair being ever so slightly affected by a gentle breeze.  Suddenly, He turns and looks at us.  The camera immediately moves in to a close-up of His eyes, staring through the camera and at us.  In them we see… power.  Absolute, unrivalled power.  But we also see serenity.  We also see calm.  Their expression is one of absolute focus.  This expression lingers just long enough, but then His eyes smile.  Their warmth melts hearts and turns the wicked into righteous men.  Their assurance is so great and so encouraging that a coward can nowhere be found on the face of the whole Earth.  This is the Son of God.  All fear is instantly eradicated planet-wide for all eternity with but one loving glance.

The camera remains where it is at, His eyes changing from a loving smile to an expression of request.  He speaks, and we see His right arm moving towards us as the camera cuts to a shot of His offered hand, a scar visible at His wrist, and the dividing line below His hand showing two waters, one where they rage, and one where they are serene: "Just as you are... come, and walk with me."

The camera fades out on the lingering close-up shot of His nail-scarred hand offered directly to us.