An Unexpected Gift

This sojourn as a believer has been such an ever-changing road. There is now enough in the rear-view mirror that I can look back and see the twists and turns and my often poor navigation through them. But now is all we have and there is no point on lamenting on the what-could-have-beens.

So now heh? I am currently burdened by being able to give an elevator speech that captures the point of being a follower of Christ.  This post-modern world has thrown such a smothering blanket of irrelevancy over it all.  I fear most never even have the opportunity to see beyond the merely religious, the broken ways of the average church and the pointlessness of a man who said he was God's son compared to the "thrill" of another season of fantasy football.

If I have an opportunity, I figure I have 2 minutes tops to make the case for "the Way" and why it is still the offer of a lifetime. And so I am developing this hook, this quick talk that gets to the very espresso essence of the message Jesus came to give. For now, I am smitten by the verses in 2 Cor, 2: 17,18. A rough paraphrase follows and provides the core of what will become my quick pitch:  Yaweh came to free us from all bondage, to unveil our faces, to restore our minds.  All so that we might come into all that we were created to be and to reflect the glory that results as he transforms us into his very likeness, one degree at a time.  Whoa!!  Who in the "H. E. double hockey sticks" would not want to step into such an offer?

It's in keeping with this offer and the restorative work underway in my life that I want to speak of today. It is a rare Saturday morning, there is a time block available that gives me the precious breathing room I seem to require when I write.  So many pro writers talk about the pressure of having deadlines.  Yowsa!  That just wouldn't work for this guy who has so much time between posts that I have to look up how to get into my own blog every time I return.

So cowardice....that is a word I hate. Nonetheless, it is something that I have exhibited several times in my life and they have always haunted me.  Above all else, I don't want to be a coward. I so respect the firemen who rushed up the steps of the burning towers to what was their last mission.  That is the complete opposite of cowardice and the poster child for the attitude I want to emulate.  Oh sure, there is the "counting the cost" aspects that are reasonable to entertain at such junctures.  I get that but nonetheless,  please let me error towards action now rather that the paralysis of analysis any day!

It seems I have seen a classic scene in several movies where the guy is on his death bed and says "I have no regrets".  Man, that would be great to be able to honestly say that but it's not my story.  I have stopped beating myself up about them (thank you Jesus!) but I have regrets, I have done things I wished I would have done differently.  And some cowardly scenes are part of my movie. I would love to be able to edit them and see them just laying on the cutting room floor, quivering in their death throws.

And then ever so unpredictably, in my 65th,  'no-longer-a-spring-chicken 'year, many years removed from some cowardly moments, something happened that was such an amazing gift direct from the Father's hand, customized just for me. (Some anonymity needs to be preserved here so please, no names, times or places.)

It was at the end of an adventure, a mission, as a member of a team of men. Someone decided to take a last minute dip in the ol' swimming hole. Kind of odd timing but we all stood and watched. Suddenly the swimmer cried out "I need help".  Really? Is he kidding? But then, seconds later another "I need help". This was not a drill, it was the real deal!!  In my head I heard one word "Go!" and I went. At break neck speed, stripping off my clothes down to my whitey-tightys. Into the frigid water, aware that another was also headed out to the swimmer and would get there first.  A brief thought of "I guess I got undressed for nuthin" (in a Scottish accent).

Then the first rescuer cries out "I can't do this anymore".  He had run out of steam in the high altitude and cold water...a deadly combination. And so I continued and ultimately was able to engage the swimmer and take him back to shore, back to safety,  utilizing the Water Safety Instructor skills learned 45 yrs earlier.  Training, you gotta love it...it does indeed come back when you need it.

Many weeks have now passed and I have asked Father what that was all about.  While I don't know how it figures into the lives of the others involved, I see clearly what was meant for me. You see, I have had these agonizing questions raised by some less-than-brave responses of mine in the past. As men, we are so desperate to know whether we have what it takes.  Father provided this as an unexpected gift, the gift of a test that by his grace I was able to pass...maybe even get a good grade on it!

Oh my gosh....the dividends that this is paying off.  The redemption that it has brought.  The restored confidence that I can (and will) respond in a selfless manner given the transformation that has been going on (and continues) in my life. The wild, wild nature of the Wild Goose in the what and how of his orchestration of this unique event. Stunning to me on every level and I am ever so grateful.....ever so grateful.

Walking with God is not some pablum-filled, namby-pamby deal for the limp-wristed. It is nothing less than a live-ammo, daily walk behind enemy lines.  At any moment we can be called on to redeem what the enemy has meant for evil into what God means for good.  It's like the pilots say, "Hours of boredom and suddenly seconds of terror."  Be ready in season and out has taken on new meaning for me. Father me Jesus, that I might stay ready, cupping the water and bringing it up to my mouth as my eyes search for you amidst the mundane.