(Programming note: In observance of the Thanksgiving
holiday, I’m switching up this week’s posting schedule. Next week will be back
to Thursday.)
When my kids were very
young, like a lot of kids, they were pretty self-centered. This wasn’t a
surprise; when any child’s world is still very small, they naturally think of
themselves as the center of the universe.
My wife and I found a
way to start breaking them out of that thought process. Every night at bedtime,
we started doing what we call “Thankful Hearts.” We’d each say a few things for
which we were thankful. My wife and I started out with some examples. We might
say something like “I’m thankful we had enough food to eat today, I’m thankful you
didn’t get hurt worse when you fell down today, and I’m thankful our house is
keeping us warm and dry while it’s rainy and cold outside.”
It took a little
adjustment for them, but over time our kids began focusing less on their “I wants”
and more on their “I already haves.” This roundabout way of counting their
blessings helped our kids understand that it’s a special thing to have enough
when others don’t. That type of security allows people to turn their focus
outward; instead of our kids’ prayer requests sounding like a Christmas list
for items they wanted for themselves, they soon began bringing their requests
to God on behalf of the needs of others.
In a world where every
commercial or advertisement you watch, read, or hear tries to convince you that
what you already have is inadequate, it’s easy to become dissatisfied. That’s
the goal of advertising. It’s also easy to get caught in the whole “keep up
with the Joneses” mentality. Don’t forget though, especially as we head into
Christmas season, to be thankful for the areas of your life where you already
have “enough,” especially if you’re assured of your salvation through the
sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Thankfulness of that eternal assurance allows you to
be confident and enables you to turn your focus outward and share the good news
with those who, in that sense, aren’t as blessed as you are.
I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart;
I will tell of all your wonderful deeds. I will be glad and rejoice in you; I
will sing the praises of your name, O Most High. Psalm 9:1-2
The November after I
graduated college, I took an adventure trip to Australia. One of the parts of
the trip I was most excited about was the trip out to the Great Barrier Reef. I
had never been scuba diving before, and the Great Barrier Reef was like, legendary
from everything I’d heard. During this portion of the trip we all got on a boat
that took us miles from shore, and we stayed out there for two overnights.
The crew operating the
dive tour took us to several different locations known to be good diving spots.
Once they securely anchored the boat at a given dive site, we waited for a
designated time window before we could go in the water. Safety observers needed
to be in position, and we needed to receive a dive brief where we learned about
the features of the area, where to avoid, can’t-miss sites, and what depth
limits we should not break. During this leg of my Australian trip, I had the
opportunity to do about a dozen trips into the water, either snorkeling or
scuba diving.
For those of us that
were not scuba certified on this trip, we could pay a bit extra on some of the
outings and a staff member would teach us enough to get by, and would be our
dive buddy and personal guide during that particular dive. I wasn’t going to
come all the way to Australia and NOT go scuba diving on the Great Barrier
Reef. Since it wasn’t cheap though, I got a good mix of scuba dives and regular
snorkeling.
The reef was an amazing
thing to see, especially the amount and variety of life that lived there. The
reef itself sounded like it was fizzing and popping. When snorkeling, I would
hold my breath and dive down to get a closer look at some of the gorgeous
sites. While snorkeling, there was so much to see, even if you only dove down a
few feet. I started diving down more than a few feet, though. Equipped with flippers,
I was able to swim deep a little easier than normal. The more you do it, the
more your body gets used to it. A few times I dove down deep enough to be on
the same level as some of the divers.
On our last day at sea,
our last dive was coming up, and I was going to spend this dive snorkeling. We
all got into the water and started going our separate ways. I was kind of
swimming around aimlessly when I noticed a very large concrete block down on
the sea floor. It was one of the weights our boat anchored to. It was pretty
far down there. I decided I was going to try to get all the way down to it.
The first time I tried,
I started swimming straight down just to see how far I could comfortably go. I
wore a wetsuit that provided some buoyancy, and lungs full of air also helped
keep me afloat. The deeper I went though, the more the water pressure
compressed everything, so the buoyancy of my lungs and suit had less effect. I
gave it a half-hearted shot, but got nowhere near my goal before I turned
around and swam back to the surface.
I recovered on the
surface for awhile, but wanted to try again. I took a few quick, deep breaths,
and then surged straight down again. I kicked hard, driving deeper. I got much
closer to the block on the floor, but started getting concerned about not
having enough air to make it back, so again I turned around early and headed
up. Coming up from the depths has the opposite effect of going deep; your
buoyancy increases as you get closer to the surface. As I got shallower, I
could feel myself rising through the water more quickly, even if I slowed my
kicking.
I spent some more time
resting and letting my breathing return to normal before making another shot
without holding anything back. I did the quick breathing thing again and dove
hard with the most air I could possibly fit into my lungs. Again, I swam hard
straight down, pushing back more firmly against the nerves and survival
instinct the deeper I went. The block on the ocean floor became larger and
larger, and as I drew nearer I became more determined to reach it. It was
almost within my reach!
Finally, after a swim
straight down and what seemed like forever, I reached the block on the ocean
floor. With a major sense of accomplishment, I flipped over and placed my feet
on the block. I took a moment to look down at my feet on the concrete, then to
look around at this place I had fought so hard to get to.
Then I looked up. If we
could go back and see what I looked like, we’d probably see the color drain
from my face. On a free dive, being the deepest you’ve ever been also means
that you are physically the furthest away from oxygen that you’ve ever been.
Never, either before or since, have I seen such a large aquatic distance that I
had to cover so quickly. I became so focused on reaching my goal that I lost
sight of the fact that the trip to the block was only half of the swim.
I shot off the block
and began kicking furiously. I wasn’t far off the block before my lungs started
burning. I kicked as hard as I could, and tried a few strokes with my arms, but
that almost felt like it slowed me down. Have you ever held your breath so long
that your diaphragm starts going into convulsions? It’s your body’s natural
reflex, as though it’s trying to force you to take a breath. More than halfway
up, my diaphragm started convulsing. It’s one thing if you’re sitting on the
couch seeing how long you can hold your breath, but it’s different when the
muscle controlling your lungs starts having spasms underwater, and I got
worried that I wasn’t going to make the surface without inhaling a lungful of
seawater.
As I tried to keep my
body from betraying me, I noticed that I was rushing through the water. The air
in my lungs and wetsuit had expanded enough that it was again making me
buoyant, and my buoyancy was increasing as I moved toward the surface. The
water at this point was rushing past my face, and I could feel its flow
anywhere my skin was exposed to the water. Compared to being at depth, my lungs
were now so full they felt like they were about to explode, yet the air within
them was all but used up.
I needed air so badly
that I didn’t even want to waste time exhaling after breaking the surface. With
nothing left to spare, I blew out halfway just before breaking the surface and
took the most grateful gasp of fresh air I’ve ever taken in my life. Looking
back at my notes from the trip, I estimated at the time that the concrete block
on the ocean floor was about 10-12 meters, or about 35 feet, below the surface.
My muscles were spent
from the furious swim and the lack of oxygen, and I floated there panting as my
wetsuit kept me from sinking. After resting awhile, I was able to swim back to
the boat and make it safely aboard.
Have you ever thought about how, when you feel you’re
doing everything you possibly can, and it’s still not enough, the Holy Spirit
can cover the gap? The way the wetsuit
worked is sort of the same way the Holy Spirit does; it’s there, wrapped around
you and pushing you toward where you need to go. I’ve met amazing people that
have endured unbelievable hardships that have drained them of any strength they
held in reserve. When you ask them how they got through it, their answer
usually has something to do God’s grace. It might be “peace that passes
understanding.” Hearing their story and knowing that they withstood things that
would make the average person buckle or tap out reminds me that the Holy Spirit
empowers Christ-followers with the things they need for the task at hand, even
if that task is nothing more ordinary than to make it through the day.
This isn’t just for
people with extraordinary stories, like Samson or King David; it’s for you and
I, too. When we’re in the midst of excruciating trials or facing an
insurmountable obstacle, God gives us what we need to “make it back to the
surface.” Then, when it’s all over and we’re completely spent, He’s there
keeping us afloat while we catch our breath, sustaining us long enough for us
to make it back to safety.
“Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses.
For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself
makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now He who
searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes
intercession for the saints according to the will of God.” Romans 8:26-27
“And when they had prayed, the place where they were
assembled together was shaken; and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit,
and they spoke the word of God with boldness.”Acts 4:31
When Americans think of
Australia, one of the things they think about is the wildlife. Some of the
things that might come to mind are kangaroos, crocodiles, koala bears, etc. The
tour company I traveled with recognized that, so one of the things they built
into the itinerary of our Australian trip was a stop at a zoo that had a lot of
these animals.
I’ve been to some zoos here in the states. Things are usually set up so that you can’t get too close, but you usually have an unobstructed view of whatever animal is present. Not this place. It was kind of a cross between a petting zoo and a crocodile kennel. You could hand-feed the kangaroos (maybe they were wallabies), handle snakes, and get close to the emu.
I think the main
attraction was probably the crocodiles. The owner was a colorful character.
Think of him as an older version of Crocodile Dundee that put on a bit of
weight and wasn’t quite so light on his feet anymore. He was fun to be around
and took us on a tour of the sights.
I’d guess that this guy
had anywhere from six to 12 crocodiles in various chain-link pens throughout
the zoo. He brought us around to the various pens, sometimes teaching us about
crocs from outside the pen, other times going inside and feeding the crocs a
chicken or two.
I was a little
surprised by this guy’s willingness to go right into the various pens, and even
more surprised at how close he was willing to get to the various animals. He
would be within a few feet of the gaping jaws of these enormous monsters, and
he’d toss meat into their mouths. He was actually missing a few fingers because
he had gotten too close in the past and eager crocs had snapped down quicker
than expected.
He seemed so laid back
about being in such close proximity to reptiles that could kill him. The only
thing he kept nearby was a rake. He used it to scratch the back of some of the
crocs to help them relax, but he kept it with him for another purpose. When a
croc is getting a little too aggressive and you need to move him back, you can
flip the rake around and push on a sensitive spot on their head, and it will
back up. We got to see this first-hand when one of the crocs started coming out
of its pen. Farmer Dundee here flipped the rake around and pushed the croc back
far enough to close the door.
One of the things that
struck me the most about this guy was how confident he was in knowing when it
was safe and when it was not safe to approach one of the beasts. Again, he was
so casual about being in extreme close proximity to crocs that I didn’t know
what to think. He actually sat on one of them when he was tired and wanted to
take a break.
This guy’s behavior is
an example of how we can become so comfortable around danger that we let our
guard down and get careless. By the time I met him, this guy had been around
crocs for years, but for all I know, he could have been attacked and killed by
one of them the next week. You can go for years flirting with danger or
something you shouldn’t be around and everything turns out fine; until it doesn’t.
You won’t always see it coming, either. That’s why it’s best to simply avoid
such situations if at all possible. A few examples might help. If you’re a
recovering alcoholic, don’t go meet friends at a bar. Avoid situations where
you’re alone with that attractive co-worker. Each of us is more susceptible to
certain mistakes than others, but we’re better than we might think when it
comes to predicting where things can go south. Let’s assume you’ve got a good
head on your shoulders; just because you’re not looking at a guy sitting on a
crocodile doesn’t mean you can’t recognize a situation that’s a bad idea.
I don’t blame my
crocodile farmer friend for doing what he does, but he has to constantly be on high
alert for trouble. Even though he’s had a lot of successful crocodile feedings,
he’s still missing some fingers. The lesson here: if you’re perfectly aware of the danger but you
intentionally stay near it anyway, don’t expect to come out of it unscathed.
Are there any
unnecessary risks in your life you need to stop accepting?
Upon graduation from
college and unsure of a career path to pursue, I moved back in with Mom and
Dad. I worked construction during that time, and since I had low overhead, I
was able to make tons of progress paying off my college loans. Free of any
major responsibilities and feeling adventurous at this point, I decided to
start making headway on my lofty goal of visiting every continent.
My folks had taken me
to Europe previously, so I could cross that one off the list. I knew that at
some point in the future I was more likely to have additional responsibilities
(and might have to pay for additional tickets if I were to go traveling), so I determined
it would be good to look at the continents that were the most difficult to get
to. I really wanted to visit Antarctica, but I figured it would probably be
best to get some general travel experience before venturing anywhere near the
South Pole. Deciding that it would be nice to go to an English-speaking
country, I settled on Australia.
I found an adventure
company that did tours all over the world, and they had a few Australian trips coming
up. On the agenda for this particular trip was whitewater rafting, hiking and
mountain biking in a rainforest, a few days on the Great Barrier Reef, and
ocean kayaking out to, then spending a few nights camping on, an island off the
Australian coast. I got signed up for a November trip.
While trees are losing
leaves and the weather’s getting chilly in North America in November, it’s
springtime in the southern hemisphere. Add to that the fact that the area where
most of this trip took place was closer to the equator than Jamaica is, and it
looked like I was going to have a tan at Thanksgiving.
That figure is for a direct flight; it doesn’t count connecting flights!
The trip ended up being
a lot of fun, and I had some neat experiences. I’ll cover a few of them in the
next couple of posts, but for now it’s important to remember that even if you
ride in a plane to the other side of the world almost 10,000 miles away, God’s
still the same God He was before you left.
Whether you’re having a
“Jonah” moment and are trying to run away, or are homesick, afraid, and want to
see something familiar, God’s
still God no matter where you go.
7Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?
8If I ascend to heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.
9If I take the wings of the dawn, If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,
10Even there Your hand will lead me, And Your right hand will lay hold of me.
11If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, And the light around me will be night,”
12Even the darkness is not dark to You, And the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You.
