For a few summers I was a lifeguard at a Christian conference center. One time there was a youth retreat going on when I was on duty at the pool that had a pair of diving boards. One of the youth leaders, Allen, was having fun racing the teenage guys in the pool.
It’s important to understand that Allen was middle-aged and wasn’t quite at his “fighting weight” anymore. Just about all of the young bucks at the pool that day could have smoked him in a 100-yard dash or pushup contest. You wouldn’t look at him and think that he was all that quick in the water. What they didn’t know was that Allen had spent a ton of time in the pool as a young man, and as a longtime member of the swim team, had practiced countless entries into the water, converting his momentum into underwater speed. Before he got into youth work, he was my lifeguarding boss (and we even got into a very sticky situation on the water).
From my lifeguard chair I had the best seat in the house. Allen took on all comers; he and any challenger would both start on a diving board, and on a signal they’d both take off running, dive in, and race to the far side of the pool.
It just wasn’t fair. It was so lop-sided that it stopped being fun for the challengers. Allen started giving them all kinds of advantages. He gave them the higher diving board while he took the lower one. He gave them a head start. He’d only be allowed to have one full stroke to make the far side.
It was close a few times, but nobody seemed able to beat him. A trend started to emerge though. Suddenly, as though it were contagious, many of the young guys would develop “leg cramps” during the race, which was obviously the reason they couldn’t keep up. It got to the point where, even standing in line, challengers would accurately predict that they’d cramp up during their race.
These guys were setting the table for their own failures. Failure is easier to tolerate when there’s an excuse for it, even if the excuse is flimsy or fake. I won’t lie, these guys were outmatched, but setting the table for your own failure, or purposely arranging an excuse for yourself, is giving yourself license to not try your hardest.
How many Christians out there today intentionally do not try their hardest to live the life that Christ has called them to? There’s no denying that a life completely dedicated to Christ is one that’s laced with struggle, exhaustion, agony, hours spent pleading with God…and unparalleled rewards. Yet so many of us set the table for our own failures. Imagine if we could talk with everyone that’s slipped from this life into Heaven, the honest answers we’d get if we started asking questions. “I didn’t give God my all during that life because…”
I believe the day is coming when some of Christianity’s practices or views will be outlawed or “canceled” here in the United States, the very country that was founded for the purpose of practicing freedom of religion. Since we’re not there yet, consider taking advantage of the religious freedoms we currently have. God has a purpose for your life, and He’s calling you to follow hard after Him. No excuses.
Lord God, we know in our heads that this life isn’t the permanent one, but the loud sounds, the bright lights, and the sparkly things here in this life seem like they’re able to distract us more than they should. Please help us have the right priorities, no more excuses, and a willingness to make sacrifices now for the sake of an eternity of satisfaction at having glorified Your name. Amen
If you’ve read some of my previous posts and suspected that I’m crazy, you’ll be sure of it after this one. Stick with me though, it’s going somewhere.
For a few summers in high school and college, I worked at a Christian conference center. The summer staff, made up mostly of teenagers, lived on the campus and did a variety of jobs during the summer. “Summer staff” made for lots of fun memories. The days were long, but the weeks (and summers) were short.
I don’t know if this still happens today, but back then the girls had a tradition where, once a summer, they’d sneak out after curfew and hit the pool for some late-night skinny dipping. Every summer, the morning after the annual excursion happened, the guys would be disappointed because it had gone on right under our noses, while we were sleeping, and we hadn’t even been aware that it was happening. (We caught them in the act the previous summer, but I was on crutches, so I couldn’t play much of a role in it.) It was a huge morale boost for the ladies to get away with something so dangerous, and it would temporarily suck the morale right out of the guys’ side of the dorm.
Well, the following summer I was a counselor, so the curfew wasn’t an issue for me. It would have been fun to catch the girls in the act, but it would’ve been impossible to keep watch every night of the summer. Rather than have the guys stay up late trying to catch the girls (and making it tougher to stay healthy in the process), I decided I would instead try to deter the girls from sneaking out for their annual tradition. A few complete coincidences worked in my favor, and I probably went a little overboard further developing my “unhinged” persona. One time, by complete luck, while I was locking up the kitchen at night, I looked out the window and saw three of the summer staff girls running out of the dorm toward the kitchen, for what I can only guess was the need to raid the fridge. I couldn’t resist the opportunity. That night when I had entered the kitchen, I didn’t turn on any of the lights, so I was walking around in the dark. I hid and waited silently. Sure enough, the three came sneaking in without turning on the lights. As they drew near, I jumped out from wherever I was hiding and yelled “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN HERE!” They screamed in absolute terror and ran out with their hair standing straight up. Hopefully they got a snack somewhere else.
Now, you have to understand that back then, I had more enthusiasm and energy than direction. I got a little crazier and, in my exuberance, I dug up a camouflage military uniform that I would put on as it drew near the time for lights out. Sometimes the camo makeup went on, too. I’d let everyone see me in it, and the impression everyone got was that even as everyone was going to bed, I was heading outside into the dark to do Heaven-only-knows what. I wouldn’t do this every night, but I did it often enough to keep would-be curfew breakers guessing whether or not I was out there waiting for them. It was a page from Bruce Wayne’s book.
In full summer camo one night…
Another complete coincidence worked in my favor. Sometimes I really would head outside, all dressed in camo. My main purpose was merely to be seen heading out into the darkness, but since I didn’t want to be seen coming right back in again, I had to stay out for awhile. Most of the time I just found a comfy place to lay down in the grass, and in truth I enjoyed the quiet and stillness of the normally busy place while I was out there. Sometimes I fell asleep. One time, though, as I turned the corner of a building, I came across four of the staff girls, just sitting on the grass overlooking the pool, breaking curfew. At least one of them was someone that I had earlier caught sneaking into the kitchen. They weren’t doing anything wrong (other than being out after curfew), but to them it seemed like I just…knew when they were out there doing something they shouldn’t be doing.
This is the winter version; blowing my nose wiped off part of the makeup, but when I painted up it looked like this
The end result of all this was that I cultivated an impression that just wasn’t true, and it ended up influencing others’ behavior in a way that I wanted. There were countless nights where they could’ve made it to the pool without any problem at all, but it was the fear of some weirdo in camouflage hiding in the bushes that kept them from taking part in the adventure they wanted to be a part of. More often than not, I was actually asleep in my bed way before lights out, but without knowing that truth, late-night pool adventures got postponed.
Here’s where we “land the plane” on this entry. As Christians, we have an enemy that cultivates the same kind of image. If you’re a Jesus-follower, you have the unimaginable power of the Holy Spirit residing in you, but if your enemy can intimidate you into entertaining or giving in to your doubts, he’s effectively countered the power you have inside you. In military terms, he’s negated your will or capacity to fight, even though you’re equipped to dominate.
It’s all just clever tricks and deception. Remember the truth: as a Christian, you are more than a conqueror! Don’t be held captive by lies! Not only do you have defensive armor available to you, but you have the greatest offensive weapon there is…the Sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6:10-18). Properly prepared, you can walk boldly and confidently into a spiritual battle and emerge victorious. Think of it this way: if you don’t have the will to fight, the enemy can use the resources he would have used on you…somewhere else. Make no mistake: he’s going to use them, if not on you, then on someone else. If you and the Holy Spirit combat those forces, you are fighting back against the darkness and tying up enemy forces, enabling relief elsewhere. (See Daniel 10:1-14 for an example where this happened to an angel.)
The Prince of Darkness excels in lying and deception. Do you believe the lies he wants you to believe, or are you willing to trust God’s truth? Don’t believe the lies. Get up and get in the fight.
In a couple of weeks I hope to start a series on some more of the tactics Satan uses against you. Subscribe today to be sure you don’t miss it!
As a teenager there were a few summers where I worked on the summer staff of a Christian conference center. We’d work during the day, and then in the evening we usually had some kind of staff activity to hang out together.
One night after work, for our staff activity we headed off to one of the more remote sections of the campus. We were going to have some kind of get-messy fight. I forget exactly what it was, but the basic idea was to get everyone else messier than you, and I think the weapon of the day was either shaving cream or whipped cream.
I wasn’t too enthusiastic about it, so once we started, rather than get right in the thick of it I sort of hung out on the edge and let everyone else get messy. The cream went flying, there were shrieks, shouts, and general mayhem ruled the day. I tried moving around enough so that I didn’t really look like I was avoiding the mess, but eventually someone noticed I was still as clean as when we started.
There was a guy on staff named Dave. Dave was super fast. Someone noticed I wasn’t messy and yelled “Dave! Get Tim!”
Dave stopped and looked at me. Our eyes met, and that’s all it took. Man, I was gone. I took off sprinting away from him as fast as I possibly could. I didn’t hold anything back because I knew he was the only person that could catch me. All the lap-swimming and other training I did for lifeguarding helped me stay in shape and run pretty fast, but I wasn’t going to be fast enough to outrun Dave. My only hope was that he’d give up the chase before he caught me.
I sprinted for over a hundred yards, but he was still back there, with two hands’ worth of shaving cream, and he was closer than when we’d started. By the time we’d gone another 50 yards, it was clear that I wasn’t going to get away from him. He was relentless. It seemed like the closer he got, the more energized he became, invigorated at the prospect of running me down.
As he got within a few feet, I was done. I could’ve kept running, but I couldn’t sprint anymore. My half-hearted attempt at zigzagging only helped him close the distance faster. He caught up to me and I got a face full of shaving cream.
Spiritually, I don’t know where you stand. For all I know, you’re not really into that “god” thing, but you somehow came across this post. You’re open to the idea of some higher power being out there, but you don’t have a concrete idea of what that entails.
Let me tell you about this God. He’s not one that sits on a throne laughing maniacally while shooting lightning bolts at anyone who displeases him. This version is unlike any that you’ve heard of before. He’s watching you, yes, but He’s not “out to get” you. This is someone that loves you without remorse, and will pursue you with abandon. He will chase you relentlessly, even if you choose to ignore Him. He will love you until your dying breath, but cares too deeply about who you really are to force you to love Him back. His name is Jesus Christ.
If you’re even still reading, you can scoff at what I say, but my goal is to help plant a seed in your mind that will grow into something more. Watch as later today, maybe tomorrow, or maybe sometime much later down the road, something happens in your life that makes you think back to this story. You’ll remember that you heard about God loving you recklessly. Though you run, He will pursue you without mercy just for the mere possibility that you even think about being curious about Him, caring too much to give up the chase and not be there in the event you stop running and turn around.
The decision you have to make is how long you’ll keep on running. No matter how long or how far you run…He’s faster and can do it longer. Try having an open mind; why don’t you see what happens when you get caught?
One of the first “grown
up” movies I saw as a kid was “Back to the Future.” It was a movie about a
high-schooler that used a crazy scientist’s time machine to travel back in time
30 years to when his parents were in high school themselves. It was my
introduction to the time travel aspect of science fiction, and I thought it was
pretty cool.
Two sequels followed. A
couple of my friends and I all loved the trilogy, and the three of us were
constantly quoting different parts of the movies to each other. We even had a
“Back to the Future” night for my buddy’s birthday sleepover, where we watched
all three movies in one night. A couple of years later I was a roommate with
that same buddy at a summer camp where we worked. One night after lights out I
recited the script of the entire first movie from memory to him.
This is an extreme (or
maybe misguided) example of what an engaged mind can do when it obsesses over
something. The three of us were around each other and tossed quotes back and
forth so often that they became second nature to us. The things we spent time
thinking about became the things most important in our relationship to one
another.
In the book of Philippians,
Paul tells readers to dwell on the things that are worthy of being, well,
dwelled on:
And now, dear brothers
and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable,
and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are
excellent and worthy of praise. –Philippians 4:8 (New Living Translation)
I don’t think “Back to
the Future” quotes qualify, but I can see why Paul makes the point. The things
you frequently think about are the things your mind is moving toward.
Now that Christmas and
New Years have passed and we’re closer to getting back into the normal routine,
I challenge you to “think on” the things mentioned in Philippians 4:8. As far
as quiet time with God, prayer, doing Bible readings, or some other type of
devotionals, if you’re not someone who regularly practices them, consider
building those items into your 2020 routine. If you do them sporadically, but not
on a regular basis, consider doing them more routinely.
Try doing them for 30
days in a row. The reason you’ll often hear people talking about doing
something for 30 days is because that’s roughly how long it takes to develop a
new habit. In other words, if you were going to make this a part of your routine
for the rest of your life, the first 30 days would be the most difficult to
accomplish; after that it would be habitual and would require less conscious
effort to complete.
God can use you for
great things. Take the first step toward embracing that calling by spending
time dwelling on the things Christ taught and did. Hopefully by this time next
year, you’ll be closer to/more in tune with God than you are right now.
A few summers in my
teens/early 20s I drove a ski boat at a Christian conference center on the
Delaware River between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. The vast majority of the
people I drove came for tubing rides, but every now and then there were people
that wanted to waterski.
If they were
experienced waterskiers, it wasn’t a problem. They knew what to do, I knew how
to drive for it, and it usually worked out pretty well.
On the other hand, it
was much more difficult when beginners gave it a shot. We had a limited
selection of ski sizes, so if the skier was small/light, they usually struggled
to get into a good starting position. Just wrestling with the skis while trying
to stay in the right “crouched” position was usually enough to get both the
skier and the driver frustrated. Add to this the fact that their teacher…me…had
never been successful at waterskiing, and it’s no surprise that I can probably
count on one hand the number of people that were able to ski for the first time
under my tutelage over the course of two or three summers. Sometimes it’s true
what they say: those that can’t do…teach.
If you want to learn
something from someone, you’d expect your instructor…regardless of what they’re
instructing…to be proficient at it, wouldn’t you? I grew up near that
conference center and since I was a kid I’d hung out by the river and heard
lots of different boat drivers describe to beginners how to get up and out of
the water on waterskis. The problem was that I didn’t have any experience doing
it myself, so it was very difficult for me to successfully translate that theoretical
knowledge into something usable for someone else.
In the Christian life we’re supposed to devote ourselves to passionately pursuing Christ. In the twelfth chapter of the book of Mark, someone asked Jesus what the greatest commandment is. He responded in verse 30 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul and all your strength.” Pursue Christ with everything you’ve got, but while you’re doing it, make sure that the sources you’re learning from, getting excited by, gaining encouragement from, and using to be renewed are credible sources. Some of the enemy’s greatest weapons employ half-truths or sound like they’re religious, but are in fact more misleading and damaging than flat-out lies.
The voices you’re listening to…are they walking the walk, or only talking the talk?
I sat in the van, more
than a little worried. Remnants of a hurricane had swollen the river to a level
that wasn’t safe for recreational canoe usage, which became painfully obvious
on our last canoe run. Earlier in the afternoon another lifeguard and I had
accompanied a group of canoers on our standard trip, but one pair of boaters
somehow managed to broadside a bridge pillar. The current was so strong that it
dumped the boaters and bent the canoe around the pillar. My boss, Allen, and I were
on our way to retrieve the “shipwrecked” canoe, and I was a teenager
that was getting less and less comfortable.
Herb, the director of
the Christian conference center where I worked, was driving us upriver. The
plan was that we’d get into a single canoe, paddle over to the spot where the bent
canoe was still pinned against the bridge pillar, and break it loose. If it was
in good enough shape, one of us would transfer to it and we’d each paddle a
canoe back home. If it was too damaged for that, we’d both remain in the same
canoe and tow the damaged one behind us.
We could see the pinned
canoe from the boat ramp. I buckled my life jacket and climbed into the front
of our canoe. Allen skipped a life jacket, but had a rescue tube (one of those
big red floats that you see pool lifeguards standing around with) wedged under
his seat. We shoved off and right away got swept into the bright brown water’s
swift current.
The river moved so
quickly that we barely had to paddle. As we approached the bridge, we started
paddling backwards to slow ourselves down. We slowed down perfectly, turned so
we were parallel with the pinned canoe, and gently bumped up against it. A
perfect docking.
The problem was the current
was moving so quickly that when it crashed against the bridge pillar and the two
canoes, it pillowed up and created undercurrents that we couldn’t see or
anticipate. Even though we sat completely still in relation to the shore, the
water churned and frothed angrily beneath us as the river pounded the keel
relentlessly. Our boat shuddered, then flipped over, dumping us both upstream.
That water was flowing hard. I didn’t even have time to be
pinned against the canoe; I got dumped in and immediately got swept under the
boat. I was able to get a hand onto the side of the boat, and hung onto it with
one hand, and held the paddle in the other. I was laid out horizontally,
completely underwater, flapping in the current like a flag on a windy day.
I had no idea where
Allen was or what his status was. He had probably safely cleared everything and
was downstream by now, but maybe he had managed to hang on somehow. In the
event that he was still there somewhere, I needed to get into a position where
we could make something happen. I needed to breathe, but if I let go, not only
would I be unable to help Allen with recovering the canoe, but the attempt
would be over because he’d have to abandon the recovery effort and come after
me. Still horizontal underwater, I tried to do a chin-up so I could get my face
out of the water enough to catch a breath and maybe see where Allen was, but
the current was so strong I couldn’t do it. I think I tried again, probably
with both hands this time, but it still wasn’t working. With no choice (and not
knowing how long it would be before the river let me get to the surface), I let
go and got flung into the current, now at the whim of the river.
Honestly, when I
surfaced, I expected to see Allen downriver. When I came up though, I didn’t
see him. I turned and looked upriver, but didn’t see him there, either. I couldn’t
see him anywhere. The only place he could be was still with the canoe, somewhere
underwater.
The current pushed me
into the eddy behind the pillar, but I was about to be carried out of it. Once
I left the eddy, there would be no chance of getting back upstream. Allen was
in the process of drowning about 20 feet away from me; I swam with everything I
had, but I barely got anywhere.
While I was still
fighting to get upstream, he popped through the surface. I found out later that
the strap to the rescue tube wedged under his seat had somehow wrapped around
his leg, so even though he wasn’t hanging onto the canoe at all, the canoe was
hanging onto him. He had been dangling by his knee at the end of a strap,
batted around underwater without any way of getting air. It must’ve been his
guardian angel that shook the rescue tube loose from under his seat.
Just relieved that we
were both alive, my sense of humor returned. While we were still drifting
downstream, I asked him “well, do you want to try again?” Thankfully
he said “uh, no.” We were able to swim to shore and get out of the
water, but we were down another
canoe.
What would’ve happened
if Allen’s rescue tube hadn’t come loose? Could I have made it far enough
upstream to be able to help him at all? If it meant I would exhaust myself, what
should I have done, considering I’d probably still need a good reserve of strength
if we both needed to rely on me to get out of the jam we were still in? Thankfully,
I didn’t have the chance to think of any of this at the time. Allen bobbed to
the surface before I had time to think about it.
This event helped put
things in perspective for me. In this life, there are things you can control
and there are things you can’t. When you can’t handle it, God will take care of
it. If the only way out of a situation is via something that’s beyond you, there’s
only so much you can bring to the table, and you have to rely on Him for the
rest. Life has countless opportunities for you to bear witness to the fact that
you’re not in control as much as you like to think you are. Every day brings
new challenges, and a lot of them need God-sized help to overcome.
It’s important to remember that if God hands you an
assignment that you’re totally confident that you’ll be able to accomplish, the
task just might be too small. By all means do
it, but recognize that if it’s something you can handle on your own, there’s
not much room for God to be glorified. On the other hand, if you get to be part
of something that you could in no way have accomplished on your own, it’s
harder to take the credit for it. I give all the credit to God for shaking
Allen loose and granting us overall safety that day, and pray that recounting
this story glorifies Him further.
(Also, hypothetically,
if you ever find yourself in a similar situation with shipwrecked canoes, don’t
forget to call the local fire/rescue folks and let them know that everyone’s
safe and accounted for. Otherwise, someone will eventually report two canoes
pinned against a bridge, the rescue team will get all kinds of excited, and
then they’ll let you have an earful when they find out what actually happened
and that you didn’t fill them in.)
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This week’s posts took place at roughly this time one July. I got certified as a lifeguard very late in the summer when I was 15, so I didn’t get much experience actually working on duty that year. The next summer was different.
The Christian conference
center where I worked not only had two pools that needed lifeguards, but it
also conducted waterfront activities on the Delaware River. It had a boat that
guests could use for waterskiing and tubing, but it also did a lot of
“canoe runs.” A canoe run was where someone on staff drove guests a
few miles upriver and dropped them off with canoes, along with a lifeguard to
guide the group. This stretch of river was mostly flat, but did have a few sets
of progressively choppier or rougher rapids that helped break up the monotony.
Canoe runs usually occurred four or five days a week, many times twice a day.
As a result, the lifeguards became very familiar with the river and where they
might encounter trouble spots or submerged obstacles. They almost never went
more than a few days without being on the river, except for once each summer.
There’s a week every
summer where the organization’s program offerings change, and it does not offer
any waterfront activities. During this particular summer’s no-river-activities
week, the remnants of a hurricane blew through our area. It rained hard for a
few days that week, swelling streams and tributaries locally and for miles upstream
of us. The water level rose and the current quickened many times over as that
water made its way into the river.
For the first canoe run
of the following week, plenty of people were excited to go. Recognizing that
the river had risen substantially, an extra lifeguard went on this trip. I was
one of them. Things started out uneventfully, but we were still within sight of
the boat ramp when something very unexpected happened.
Here’s the bridge, with the supporting pillars. The one in question is the one right over this guy’s shoulder.
Soon after the put-in
point there’s a bridge that crosses the river. The bridge is built for vehicles,
so its pillars are pretty solid. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I
think the two men in one of the canoes were trying to get past one of the
columns and got surprised by how swift the current was moving. They somehow
ended up slamming broadside into the pillar. The current was so strong that the
impact dumped both people into the river and the force of the water physically
wrapped the canoe around the upstream side of the pillar.
With the current moving
so quickly, everyone else who had not
hit a bridge went flying past the site of the impact. The other lifeguard and I,
still a little stunned that someone had actually run into the only thing they
could have possibly hit, spun our canoe around and began paddling upstream as
hard as we could, but it was all we could do to not lose any further ground to
the current. Just about all of the other canoes did the same thing, but with varying
degrees of success. The two guys that got dumped in the water didn’t quite know
what to do, and were stuck in the eddy downstream of the pillar. Everyone
paddling hard was getting tired, so we had to shout to the guys to start
swimming downstream, out of the eddy, so we could reach them. They did, and we
eventually reached them and placed them in two of the remaining canoes.
This all happened
within sight of where we put the canoes into the water. We still had almost
three miles to go! I started worrying about all kinds of things. “What are
the rapids gonna look like?” “If the current’s moving this fast, is
our whole group going to be able to make land if they all arrive at our
destination at the same time?” “How do I tell my boss I lost a
canoe?”
The rest of the trip
wasn’t nearly as eventful as what I feared. The river was so high that the
rapids no longer existed, and the current moved so quickly that we made it
downstream in record time. It was a struggle at the end, but we were able to
get everyone back on land at the right spot. After counting heads and
accounting for all of the gear (minus one boat and a few paddles), it was time
to go tell the boss.
You might remember Allen from an earlier post. He’s the guy that recruited me into lifeguard training. He was in charge of all the recreational activities, and he was the guy I needed to tell. Allen’s the kind of guy that usually has the same facial expression whether he’s happy, sad, conflicted, ecstatic, flabbergasted, or thinking about a baloney sandwich.
“Dude, Al! We lost
a canoe! These guys hit one of the bridge pillars, the canoe wrapped around it,
they got dumped out, we picked ’em up and made it back, and as far as I know,
the canoe’s still there, stuck on the bridge!”
He just kind of stood
there and blinked at me, digesting what he just heard. He asked me a few
clarification questions, paused to think for a few moments, and then hit me
with:
“Well, let’s go
get it.”
Then it was my turn to
stand there and blink.
I should have protested
more, maybe making more of an attempt to convey the river’s strength. I was
fresh off the situation…I had just been there and seen the power of the
current, and how crazy high the water actually was. Allen knew the conditions
were much different from what they normally were, but he hadn’t been there to
witness the ease with which the river destroyed a canoe. At 16 years old,
though, I wasn’t confident enough to challenge my boss and say “I’ve been
there, I’ve seen it! You’ve gotta believe me!”
There’s a difference
between knowing something with your mind and having experienced that same thing
in person. If you follow Christ, He enables you to do things that you can’t do
without Him. The Bible talks about how we’re supposed to go out and tell the
world about Christ, being bold and taking steps forward when we can’t see
what’s in front of us. It talks about being strong and courageous, and it even
talks about how, if you’re faithful with a few things, you’ll be granted
authority over more resources so you can further demonstrate your faithfulness.
Yet it’s one thing to
read about and say “yeah, I know that, I’ve known that for years” and
quite another to do it. Keeping your keister parked on the couch instead of
being obedient is a loss for Christ’s kingdom. You, as a child of God, need not
fear even when seemingly impossible and daunting obstacles stand before you. If
you know that God will empower His followers to do His work, do you believe
Him? Going a step further, if you know that God has charged you to do something
overwhelming, are you stepping out in faith even when you can’t see what’s in
front of you?
Take the next step.
Step out in faith. He’s going to give you what you need to succeed in His name.
I’ve been there. I’ve seen it. You’ve gotta believe me!
I
won’t be posting on Independence Day, so I’ll do it today and then not again
until next week. Have a safe, enjoyable holiday, and happy birthday, America!
The summer after I graduated high school I worked at
a Christian conference center, where a bunch of teenagers worked on the
organization’s summer staff. One day after work there were a bunch of us just
hanging around with nothing to do. The part of the campus near the staff
quarters and the dining room had a circular decorative fountain outside of it,
but it needed repair and had been drained. All that was left inside it was
nasty rainwater with decaying leaves in it.
We had a guy on staff, Dave, who was very nimble. He
hopped from outside the fountain to the pedestal in the middle, and then hopped
out the other side, making it look easy. Well shoot, I thought that was pretty
cool, so I had to give it a try, too.
It turns out I wasn’t quite as nimble as Dave. I got
to the middle without much trouble, but I couldn’t slow down fast enough to
stay on it. Caught in that awkward spot of “should I try to stop all the way,
or keep going and hop out again?”…I ended up making a leap for the exit. The
problem was that since I had already tried to stop, this wasn’t a full-blown
attempt to reach the other side and I didn’t have enough momentum to do it.
Only the first few inches of my foot landed on the other side, and the full
weight of my body came crashing down on this part of my foot, overextending my
ankle beyond its normal range.
This resulted in a complex injury that was a
combination of a strain, sprain, and possibly even a break (I don’t remember, but
it hurt). I ended up being on crutches a lot that summer.
I had a lot of appointments with an orthopedic
doctor after that. The injury was the sort where it didn’t need a hard cast, it
just needed some immobilization, so he gave me an air cast that I could take on
and off. In one of the earlier visits that summer he told me “once you can
tolerate it, you can start putting some weight on it.” I thought that was great
news, so I grit my teeth and walked out of the office after that appointment
without using my crutches. I went slow and limped a lot, but in my mind the
doctor wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t been making some good progress.
I’m not sure if it was stubbornness, ego, or if I
was just grossly misguided, but over the next few weeks I ditched the crutches
and got comfortable being uncomfortable (and slow). I got where I needed to go,
I just took a little longer to get there. The next time I went to the doctor,
he seemed a little perplexed why the healing wasn’t progressing as quickly as
he expected. Once he found out about my “grin and bear it” attitude, he set me
straight. I went back on crutches.
It’s amazing
how much better your injuries heal when you give them what they need.
I remember being super excited toward the end of the healing, when I was once
again off crutches. After using my bad leg more or less as a peg leg when I walked,
it felt great when I could once again use muscle in that foot to propel myself
forward, rather than only using it as something to balance on mid-stride while
I waited for my good foot to hit the ground.
It makes me think…what else in life do we do to
sabotage ourselves? By the stubborn actions we take, are we delaying the healing
of some other literal or figurative injury? Are there areas in which we should be
further along than we are at this point? By neglecting a practice of some sort,
how have we shortchanged ourselves? This could be anything from not reading
God’s word on a regular basis to harboring a grudge or bitterness to not taking
the next step to heal a wounded relationship.
Now’s the time. Set aside the ego, stop pretending it’s getting better, and pick up the crutches again. Are you really gaining anything by clinging to a “grin and bear it” attitude? Take that step you know you’re supposed to take. It’s the only way the real healing begins.
I don’t remember if I was 16 or 17 but I worked as a lifeguard a few of my teenaged summers. The Christian conference center where I worked was always very busy in the summer time, so when I wasn’t doing lifeguard or pool stuff, I usually had some other type of work to do.
One morning I sat in an
office near the conference center’s front desk, doing data entry for some
upcoming summer programs. I heard someone come running in the front door, and breathlessly
told the front desk attendant, Kari, that there had been an accident down on
the river. On the other side of the Delaware River, right across from us, there
was a rope swing. Apparently a pair of guys that had been paddling down the
river stopped to play around on the rope, but the rope snapped on one of them while
they were mid-swing. According to the guy who came running in, his buddy was
conscious, but couldn’t get up. Since there were some people hanging out on the
conference center’s dock, the uninjured guy saw them and paddled over to ask
for help.
Kari called an
ambulance to get them rolling, then came back to where I was. She asked if I
could just go see if there was anything I could do to help or if there was
anything I could find out.
As I ran across the street
and arrived down at the dock, the guy in the boat was just paddling away in his
boat, heading back over to his buddy. I asked the people on the dock what was going
on, and got the same info I already had. It sounded like the guy in the boat
was super panicky, and it wasn’t clear if the injured guy had a hurt ankle or a
hurt back. There were no other boats around. A canoe would have been absolutely
fantastic at that point, and the conference center’s ski boat would have been
even better, but the waterfront equipment wasn’t going to be set out for the
day for another half hour or so.
I didn’t know how long
it would be before the ambulance arrived. I looked across the river to where
the guy was still laying in the water. That was too far to swim. Well…maybe?
It was, right? I had never
tried it, but that didn’t mean it was too far. I’d been swimming laps in
the pool; in fact I swam hundreds of yards most weeks, but I never went more
than 25 yards without touching a wall. This was probably only four or five pool
lengths. The guy over there might have a broken back, and if his buddy did
anything crazy, it could have a lasting impact. Before I knew it, I ran up to
the pool and grabbed a big red rescue tube, then ran back down to the river. I
was already wearing swim trunks; I kicked off my shoes and took off my shirt. I
put the rescue tube’s strap across my chest and waded into the water to start
swimming across the river.
No big deal, right? It
was the same thing that I did in the pool. Everything went fine at first. I
swam with purpose, I was confident I could do it, and the adrenaline gave me a
boost. I had swum hundreds of laps in the pool, so I knew to lay as
horizontally in the water as possible, even though it felt unnatural, so I
could streamline my body and reduce the effort I’d need to expend.
But that was in a nice
clear pool, with goggles. There were no lines on the floor here telling me I
was going in the right direction. I had to keep picking my head up to check
where I was, where my destination was, how fast the current was taking me, and
if there were any boats coming. Picking my head up meant my body was more
slanted in the water, so I had to work harder to go the same distance. Without
goggles, the water kept getting in my eyes and I had to squint or miss half a
stroke to wipe my eyes to see again. My feet kept kicking the rescue tube or
the strap it was attached to, so I had to modify my kick. The adrenaline burned
off, and I was in the middle of the river, getting tired and starting to doubt
myself.
I ended up switching
strokes for awhile. I didn’t move very fast, but it helped me rest enough to
resume my previous stroke. After what seemed like forever, I made it to the
other side. I was glad when my feet touched land again and I was able to walk up
out of the water to find out what was going on.
It turns out the guy
hadn’t broken his back or anything quite so severe, but his leg was probably
broken. The river bank was too steep to get him up to the top, especially since
he was a bigger guy and I didn’t have any shoes. The rope swing was on the back
edge of a field. Any emergency vehicles were probably going to have a rough
time finding the dirt road that led to us. I sent the injured guy’s buddy out
to the main road to help the ambulance find us, while I stayed with busted-leg
guy.
The emergency folks
didn’t have all the information they would have liked, so they activated the
swift-water rescue team. Now, my hat’s off to volunteer paramedics and river
rescue folks, because they never know what they’re going to deal with when they
show up to a call. I have to say, though, I was a little amused when a guy in a
life jacket, wetsuit, and a helmet tossed a throw-bag (a rope with a weighted
end) near us as I sat on the shore of a gently flowing river, wearing only swim
trunks, while the water gently lapped our feet.
They got the guy out
and loaded him into the ambulance. They patched him up, and I don’t know what
happened, but I’m sure he was fine after a few weeks on crutches. Thankfully by
the time they were driving off our waterfront equipment was getting set out,
and of all people, my dad came idling up to me in the conference center’s ski boat
to give me a ride home. I was glad I didn’t have to swim back.
What a crazy story. Where
in the world am I going with this? I have three things to elaborate on:
First, no matter who
you are, daunting tasks lay before you. Whether it’s the struggle to make it
through yet another mundane day or fighting against something that threatens to
annihilate your way of life, the choice to either stand on the sidelines and
watch or step forward to get your feet wet is up to you. The road will be hard,
but things God placed in your pathway previously have helped equip you for the
journey.
Secondly, you don’t
have to have all the answers in order to be helpful. I was afraid this guy fell
off a rope swing and broke his back and that I was going to have to deal with
some crazy complicated scenario. I wasn’t an EMT, I was just a teenaged
lifeguard that was trained in CPR and first aid. I don’t think I even had a
driver’s license yet. If the guy had been in real bad shape, the only thing I
had with me was a glorified pool float. I knew more than either of those two
other guys did, though. I may not have done anything to save the day, but by
deciding to wade into the river, I kept things from getting worse. We’ve all
been there. Maybe you see something at work or at church where you know it’s
not going to end well, despite the best intentions of the people involved. If
you see something they don’t, even if you’re not the expert, consider offering
some insight that can keep things from getting worse.
Finally, when God made
you, He broke the mold. While we’re all made in His image, you’re not like
anybody else on Earth. Think about the things that come naturally to you…the
combination of talents, interests, and traits that are unique to you. We’ll
call that unique combination your X factor. In this day and age there is an
urgent need for people to make use of the X factors God gave them. There is
nobody else in the world that possesses the exact same X factor you do. You
might be thinking something like “but you don’t understand…I don’t have a
position of authority…I don’t even talk with that many people…I’m a nobody.”
Let me tell you something: the Bible is full of “nobodys” that chose to get out
of the way and let God put their X factor to good use.
Many, if not all, of us have been given opportunities…opportunities to do whatever it is that we’re best at. It’s one of the greatest gifts a person can receive: a chance to do what you were made to do. Incredibly, many of us put it off. “I’ll do it tomorrow,” or even “next week.” What kind of arrogance is it we have when we assume “the same opportunity God is giving me right now will still be there in the morning”? The only thing you have for sure is right now. If God’s been nudging you to do something, what are you waiting for? It’s time to do it right now. Call that person right now. Stop delaying and set your idea in motion right now. Get it done right now. Wade into the water…right now.
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. -Philippians 4:13
