The Water and the Word

at blogging. You’ll have to forgive me. This is all new to me. Perhaps it is to you too. I don’t know. I’m sure my age is showing, but all this communication and “letting it all hang out,” electronically speaking, is just a little intimidating. Anyway, I’m here for you.

Journey on, friend.

Today, I’m going to walk… on water.

Just take a look at that picture up there. Look at that blue glassy sea. Now imagine taking a step onto it. Just one foot. And now the other. That’s what I’m going to do. Wanna come?

Here’s why I’m going to do it. Because like Peter, I was called out onto the water. Out of the boat I’ve been riding in, and far from the shore. I’ve been called to “come.” So over the side I go, gingerly placing one foot out of the boat, still holding its side, not quite sure what’ll happen when the other foot joins me. 

But I’ve been called, and I can’t deny it. I can’t stay in that boat any longer when I see Him out there, hovering over the waters. There’s much more for me than what the shore promised, and I left that behind. But now there’s even more–more than just watching the waves. The Spirit in me wants to go for a wild walk, and I’m ready.

Walking by faith is walking on water. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before. But when I go where the Lord asks me to, by faith, I step out of that boat and look to him for every step.

Today is day one. Are you coming?

I was sharing these words with a friend, and just thought maybe you needed to hear them as well. They’re a confession really. A confession of how driven my life has been. I’m constantly trying to have all my plans worked out and mapped out and thought out. I have desperate hopes, fueled by the words: ”if I can just do this, then everything will be okay…”. I’m tired and feel like I’ve been holding my breath for a long time.

Then the light dawns: The Lord doesn’t need me to make everything work out. He’s the Maker of everything–even of good outcomes! And I need to believe him even before I see anything working out all right. I try so hard to push and do and be; I plan more and try harder. 

And there’s no peace, and no rest, and I don’t sense the comfort of his presence. 

I don’t want that any more. I need the comfort of the quiet waters. And I need to know He’s leading me; he’s guiding. It’s all about him, not the other way around. I keep walking ahead and looking for him trailing behind. And now I miss seeing him at all, because it turns out that in my hurry, I plain wandered away.

Thankfully, my Shepherd rescues! And this time, I’m just going to let him lead me right back to where He wants me to be. Right to those still waters.

I hope to find you there too.

Psalm 23: 1-3: “The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” 

Here’s an old hymn I came across; a suitable prayer for today.  

I Feel the Winds of God Today, by Jessie Adams (1906) 

I feel the winds of God today; today my sail I lift,
Though heavy, oft with drenching spray, and torn with many a rift;
If hope but light the water’s crest, and Christ my bark will use,
I’ll seek the seas at His behest, and brave another cruise.

It is the wind of God that dries my vain regretful tears,
Until with braver thoughts shall rise the purer, brighter years;
If cast on shores of selfish ease or pleasure I should be;
Lord, let me feel Thy freshening breeze, and I’ll put back to sea.

If ever I forget Thy love and how that love was shown,
Lift high the blood red flag above; it bears Thy Name alone.
Great Pilot of my onward way, Thou wilt not let me drift;
I feel the winds of God today, today my sail I lift.

 Do you feel the winds of God today? What challenges do you face in lifting the sail? What does it mean for your to put out to sea today?

Ever struggled to live a “consistent” life? And by that, I mean, do you struggle to faithfully live in the way you know you can through Christ? In what areas? Well, I think everyone struggles with this; I know I do. And as I was reflecting on how this affects my personal life, I wrote a short piece called ”The Peaceful Life.” May it be an encouragement to you that you are not alone. And may it remind you that He has made a way for us to enter into the peaceful life through his faithfulness.

I spent my childhood and young adult years by the seashore. Not because we traveled a lot or vacationed or owned waterfront property; we lived on an island. Sand for soil; docks at dead ends. I suppose its no great wonder that my heart’s at sea.

And I know I’m not alone. If I was, oceanfront property in California would be affordable, and you’d never have to guard a body-sized plot for a towel on the beach. Both time and space on the seashore is valued and sought after–and it’s much more than water and sand and sky that draws us there.

It’s Him.

Romans 1:20 tells us, in those familiar words, that “since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities–his eternal power and divine nature–have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.”

So when we come to the mighty water’s edge, we behold the mystery of Him. We witness a place where a beginning and an end meet together, inseparable from one another. We behold a force that powerfully sustains life–and powerfully takes it. We listen for the calming, consistent lullaby, and fear its unsettling, unpredictable roar. We see the definite and boundless. That which cannot be held, yet carries without limit; that which is weighty beyond measure, yet makes weightless. We come to a place where the earth touches the heavens, and convinces us of how very far apart they are.

What mysteries do you behold at the water’s edge? What is He revealing to you? Listen today, for ”the voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord thunders over the mighty waters” Psalm 29:3.

An entry in the daily devotional Our Daily Bread, titled, “A Sailing Ship,” quoted some words on “dying,” by Henry van Dyke. Here’s what he wrote:

“I am standing at the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud, just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. . . . And just at the moment when someone at my side says: ‘There, she is gone!’ there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: ‘Here she comes!’ And that is dying.”

It’s a beautiful description, but I thought of the reference to dying more as a metaphor. Because when we say goodbye to the things of the world that keep us on this shore, we journey far off–to that place “just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.” And as soon as that ship is out of sight of the shore it left behind, others are watching and waiting for her to approach. Perhaps they desperately need to hear from those who have been out on the seas.

Psalm 107:23-31 says this: ”Others went out on the sea in ships; they were merchants on the mighty waters. They saw the works of the LORD, his wonderful deeds in the deep. For he spoke and stirred up a tempest that lifted high the waves.  They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths; in their peril their courage melted away. They reeled and staggered like drunken men; they were at their wits’ end. Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble, and he brought them out of their distress. He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and he guided them to their desired haven. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men.”

Others need to know of his wonderful deeds in the deep in our lives. And our voyage on the ocean with him can bring the glad tidings that someone else on shore is waiting to discover.

What wonderful things have you discovered in the deep? When did the waters rise high, and your courage melt away? How did he still the storm to a whisper, and guide you to your desired haven? What tidings does your ship bring to those who are waiting on shore? Will you deliver the message?

In the hymn posted on April 20, the refrain says this:

 Launch out, into the deep.
Oh let the shore line go.
Launch out, launch out in the ocean divine,
Out where the full tides flow.

I’ve been thinking a lot about “the shore line.” I’m wondering: What is it that keeps you tied to the shore? I know for me there are many little things that keep me snagged; and I let them. I’ll be honest: they’re the personal comforts and pleasures I’ve never been without, and they’ve become ropes of security that keep me where I’m most familiar. Letting go of them means I have to face my fear of what will happen next–and I have to wrestle with whether or not I believe God is trustworthy in what, to me only, is unchartered territory. But you know… He’s started the untying process in my life. And it’s because I’m asking, against my wanting, that He would loosen my grip and take me where I won’t go on my own–to the horizon ahead where the heavens and the waters meet. I want to know that place beyond the shore line. Do you?

Here’s an old hymn I came across. Strangely, the message is one that has been on my heart for some time. Finding it here was like finding treasure–words that God tucks away in the hearts of his children. May it encourage you to launch out to where God is asking you to go today.

The Mercy of God is an Ocean Divine, by Albert Simpson

The mercy of God is an ocean divine,
A boundless and fathomless flood.
Launch out in the deep, cut away the shore line,
And be lost in the fullness of God.

Launch out, into the deep.
Oh let the shore line go.
Launch out, launch out in the ocean divine,
Out where the full tides flow.

But many, alas! only stand on the shore,
And gaze on the ocean so wide.
They never have ventured its depths to explore,
Or to launch on the fathomless tide.

Launch out, into the deep.
Oh let the shore line go.
Launch out, launch out in the ocean divine,
Out where the full tides flow.

And others just venture away from the land,
And linger so near to the shore
That the surf and the slime that beat over the sand [strand]
Dash o’er them in floods evermore.

Launch out, into the deep.
Oh let the shore line go.
Launch out, launch out in the ocean divine,
Out where the full tides flow.

Oh, let us launch out on this ocean so broad,
Where floods of salvation o’erflow.
Oh, let us be lost in the mercy of God,
Till the depths of His fullness we know.

Launch out, into the deep.
Oh let the shore line go.
Launch out, launch out in the ocean divine,
Out where the full tides flow.

“Come all you who are thirsty,

            come to the waters;

and you who have no money,

            come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk

            without money and without cost.

Why spend money on wheat is not bread,

            and your labor on what does not satisfy?

Listen to me, and eat what is good,

            and your soul will delight in the richest of fare” —Isaiah 55:1-2

 Come to the waters… 

Now that’s the invitation I needed today. And maybe it’s the one you needed too. Just thinking about the waters that the Lord invites us to lifts my spirit out of the dry dust of my small world to something far above—“to the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb” (Revelations 22:1).

I admit it: my soul is dry. And I’ve been trying to quench my spiritual thirst with physical things. Like, maybe a new strategy or more organization will bring satisfaction; maybe new clothes, shoes, or housewares; maybe better eating habits, rest, and more exercise; maybe working harder or serving more. And don’t worry: to be sure they really don’t satisfy, I’ve tested all of the possibilities—repeatedly. I’ve buried myself beneath floods of good intentions and self-help remedies. So I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m drowning.

So I’m admitting it again: my soul is dry. I need to say that because I have to face the truth: I try to physically relieve a spiritual condition all the time. It’s like trying to poke a cloud with a stick; it’s impossible. Add that to the fact that I’m just over five feet tall, and my attempts move out of the realm of impossibility and into the world of pure insanity.

But today, you and I are invited somewhere else: we’re invited to come to the waters. Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”We know the gift of God: the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23). Jesus is the gift of God, and the waters of Life that feed our soul are found in him. All we need to do is go to him and ask for a drink. It’s that simple.

So when was the last time you went to him and asked him for the living water that springs up in the soul? When was the last time you drew near to receive freely, instead of trying to physically buy your spiritual food? When was the last time you experienced true, lasting, peaceful satisfaction?

Perhaps it’s been too long, but it’s never too late. Let’s go to the waters now, and our souls will delight in the richest of fare…