A few years ago, I thought it would be a good idea to try out snowboarding. Thinking back on it, I never understood why I would desire to do such a thing and why others live for it. If you think about it, it's totally crazy! You voluntarily lock your feet and ankles into a slippery, narrow board and slide down a mountain of snow and ice, filled with boulders, trees, and other humans while standing up. Fun!
When I first starting learning how to snowboard, the instructor emphasized one thing over and over, "Lean forward." He must have said that at least a hundred times. Leaning forward though was the last thing I wanted to do. When you're standing at the top of a mountain with both feet locked into "The Oval of Death" and you're looking down, the natural thing to do is to lean back. Leaning forward was the John Wayne thing to do, and I felt more like Betty White.
Following Jesus is a lot like learning how to snowboard. At the top of the mountain is Faith - the belief that we can do it. At the bottom of the mountain is Hope - the finish line. But in between the two is Risk. Lurking in the space between are: doubt, questions, pain, circumstances, and the opportunity for failure. It's life, and life is risky.
Many people are super excited when they first come to Jesus. The instructions seem easy enough. Receive me, trust me, obey me, and all will be well.
But then they start walking it out - they start their descent. The instructions begin to seem impossible, illogical, and unrealistic as they come face to face with all the obstacles. Everything in them is telling them to bail, to take off the board, to get back to flat land where the food is plenty and the hot cocoa is warm.
And so they go. They settle in and enjoy the comforts of this life, of this world, and they begin to cling to it, depend on it, and need it. They find themselves in the lodge looking out the window at all those who have overcome, at all those who have seemed to have made it, and who have learned to trust in their instructors. And in a moment they sense a pull to try again. They sense something telling them that the lodge isn't the best place to be, that it's a trap. Though the journey down the mountain is filled with risk, watching and playing it safe is even riskier.
Genesis 12:1
The Lord had said to Abram, "Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father's family, and go to the land I will show you..."
May you lean forward, trusting your Heavenly Instructor who not only teaches and leads you but who adopted you. May you make a conscious decision every day to live in the space between Faith and Hope. And as you do, may you enjoy the gentle voice and lifting hands of the One who knows how to get you to the finish line.
When I first starting learning how to snowboard, the instructor emphasized one thing over and over, "Lean forward." He must have said that at least a hundred times. Leaning forward though was the last thing I wanted to do. When you're standing at the top of a mountain with both feet locked into "The Oval of Death" and you're looking down, the natural thing to do is to lean back. Leaning forward was the John Wayne thing to do, and I felt more like Betty White.
The whole process of just learning how to turn, stop, and not fall was tiring, humiliating, and painful. One time I fell so hard, I just laid there in the middle of the slope truly believing that something got lodged where nothing should ever be lodged. My eyes were watering (Yes, it hurt that bad!), and I was thinking, "God, don't make me go out this way," along with, "Could my hiney be paralyzed?" It wasn't uncommon to see little girls making fun of me with their little, pink, fluffy snowsuits after I took a fall. I could almost hear them asking me if I needed my mommy as they floated past me with ease. I imagined placing nearby logs over their heads and packing it with snow and live squirrels, but I always passed on making it a reality.
Anyway, I distinctly remember how I felt after my first day on the hill. It literally felt like someone beat me from head to toe with socks filled with rocks. There wasn't one area of my body that wasn't screaming out loud for relief. But before I knew it, I found myself on the mountain again. Why I would do it all over again, I have no idea. There wasn't a million-dollar prize awaiting me. No new car at the bottom. Just the greater chance of leaving without all limbs working. But eventually I figured it out. I learned how to stop, turn, slow down, and, most importantly, to lean forward (which really is the best way to gain control of your board, by the way). It didn't mean that I never fell or embarrassed myself again, but I did do it less frequently and all the falls weren't for nothing. With every fall and mishap I took mental notes and learned what not to do, and made the proper adjustments.
Anyway, I distinctly remember how I felt after my first day on the hill. It literally felt like someone beat me from head to toe with socks filled with rocks. There wasn't one area of my body that wasn't screaming out loud for relief. But before I knew it, I found myself on the mountain again. Why I would do it all over again, I have no idea. There wasn't a million-dollar prize awaiting me. No new car at the bottom. Just the greater chance of leaving without all limbs working. But eventually I figured it out. I learned how to stop, turn, slow down, and, most importantly, to lean forward (which really is the best way to gain control of your board, by the way). It didn't mean that I never fell or embarrassed myself again, but I did do it less frequently and all the falls weren't for nothing. With every fall and mishap I took mental notes and learned what not to do, and made the proper adjustments.
Following Jesus is a lot like learning how to snowboard. At the top of the mountain is Faith - the belief that we can do it. At the bottom of the mountain is Hope - the finish line. But in between the two is Risk. Lurking in the space between are: doubt, questions, pain, circumstances, and the opportunity for failure. It's life, and life is risky.
Many people are super excited when they first come to Jesus. The instructions seem easy enough. Receive me, trust me, obey me, and all will be well.
But then they start walking it out - they start their descent. The instructions begin to seem impossible, illogical, and unrealistic as they come face to face with all the obstacles. Everything in them is telling them to bail, to take off the board, to get back to flat land where the food is plenty and the hot cocoa is warm.
And so they go. They settle in and enjoy the comforts of this life, of this world, and they begin to cling to it, depend on it, and need it. They find themselves in the lodge looking out the window at all those who have overcome, at all those who have seemed to have made it, and who have learned to trust in their instructors. And in a moment they sense a pull to try again. They sense something telling them that the lodge isn't the best place to be, that it's a trap. Though the journey down the mountain is filled with risk, watching and playing it safe is even riskier.
Genesis 12:1
The Lord had said to Abram, "Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father's family, and go to the land I will show you..."
We
cannot let the fear of failure or the experience of failure keep us from
leaning forward with God, from going down the mountain towards fulfilling what
He created us to do.
May you lean forward, trusting your Heavenly Instructor who not only teaches and leads you but who adopted you. May you make a conscious decision every day to live in the space between Faith and Hope. And as you do, may you enjoy the gentle voice and lifting hands of the One who knows how to get you to the finish line.
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