Dry Land

One weekend a couple of weeks ago God pulled me out of the water. For days I had been overwhelmed with my many commitments, was missing my family and facing my own disillusionment. Not to mention making small daily decisions concerning priority spending: purchase a new long distance plan vs. paying my exorbitant cell phone bill. Part of being over-committed is being busy. So busy you don’t have time to deal, until your pseudo day off rolls around. Pseudo because that day there is no set schedule, no people to meet with, just a to do list that weighs on you like Dickens. So you wake up and have nowhere to be and dissolve into an Olympic sized puddle of tears, with no end in sight.
Basic coping skills take over: call Mom and leave town.
Mom is the ever-present balm, talking with her puts the world aright. Next, leave town: get out, go to a movie, see a friend, and take a time out.
It takes a good friend to deal with you in your needy, I-cried-all-day state of mind. It’s this kind of friend who, though unaware you're treading water, offers conversation, laughter and chocolate milk. Even when they would normally already be asleep in front of the TV.
Yet the next day I still feel waterlogged. In Sunday School I play the hypocrite. I try to coax my kids into coming up with praises during prayer time. When I myself have to pause and take extensive inventory before coming up with the general (but true), thanks for family and friends.
Then everything changes. Sunday School becomes holy ground. Peter walked out on the water to be near his Christ and yes, he looked down and saw the choppy water, became afraid and started to sink. He doubted, he sunk; but that should not be the focus. We all sink! No shock there. The shock is that our Christ still reaches out his hand and pulls us up to stand with him on the turbulent waves. He says “o ye of little faith,” but he does not let go. He does not let go!
And in Church... the pastor becomes prophet and the message becomes more. A little known disciple leads you to a fig tree where God knows you and your purpose, great or small. And he knows all that you are and it’s enough. It’s enough, and you can see dry land.