Through Water, Through Fire, Not a Walk on the Beach

Sometimes it takes work to grow up. Sometimes it’s hard, and it hurts. Sometimes you mess up and fall flat on your face.

And getting back up again hurts like Hell.

Sometimes there’s just enough grace, love, and forgiveness to cover you even when you have fallen.

Work is hard. No duh. I mean work getting yourself to be a healthy human being, simply functioning through a bad day with a smile and a laugh feels like dying. But sometimes it’s what we have to do. It’s not what we want to do, and it’s exhausting.

I’m reminded of the “Footsteps in the Sand” poem. I think what everyone focuses on is how Jesus carried the man through the hard times.

But what Christians are so reluctant to admit is that the man felt alone. When there was one stupid set of footprints in the sand the man didn’t feel carried. He felt alone, dejected, and hurt that Jesus wasn’t with him.

And Jesus does carry us, but I take comfort in the fact that when the storms in our life come, when we have to hike up a 90 degree slope on that beach, it’s normal to feel alone. We’re not, but it feels like it.

And so what happens to praising God for carrying us? We still feel like we have fought all of the battles. And sometimes it feels like our work that gets us through. It may not be, but it sure feels like it.

I take comfort in Philipians 1:18b-19: 

“Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that by your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance”.

See, I think Paul felt alone. But he saw through the storm clouds to the fact that he wasn’t alone. He may not have felt carried, but he felt protected.

And that’s really what we want, isn’t it? Not just to be carried through the bad times. In fact, Isaiah says “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you walk through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned."

God protects us, but we still have to choose to walk through the fire.

Anthropology of homesickness

So I'm sitting in my apartment when I start hearing some traditional music being played. I think it's coming from the street fair, so I ignore it. After a while it gets annoying so I turn up my music.

Then I realize it's coming from downstairs. Oh the joys of living in a church.

But there's something familiar about it... a language I don't quite understand, a couple words that I understand like "yesu".

And my body and mind start going like it's my normal Sunday morning. It's everything I can do to not go down and dance.

There is an anthropological term called "rapture". It is a term used to describe getting so totally caught up in something that you have an out of body experience (not the creepy walk towards the light kind, though). One of the main examples used is indigenous music. The rhythm, the beats, it swallows you up.

That's the way I would get sometimes listening to music in Uganda in church, or when I got to know some music during my stay with the Makah Indians in Neah Bay.

So someone restrain me before I go down in my mushanana with my drum.

Bungee jumping for God: It's supposed to hurt

I was playing my guitar for the first time in a few months trying to learn some songs to sing with the youth group in a few weeks. When I took my left hand off the strings I realized that my fingers were blistering.

My thought: 

"OUCH. Praising God isn't supposed to hurt!"

But then I thought about it and realized that everything good we do in life hurts in some way. Sending a kid off to college hurts. Leaving home for college hurts. Taking a new job and moving to a new city hurts. Giving up your "life" to become a missionary in Africa hurts. Let's not forget that we are all called to give up our lives.

And then I thought: Bungee jumping hurts. I mean the whiplash you get is crazy when you're snapped back up and spend your time bobbing up and down mid air. It hurts.

Every good thing, every change, every growth hurts. Think about how painful growing pains are. It hurts to get yourself to a point where you can live your life.

But the best thing about the pain is that something amazing comes with it. When you leave for college you find all of your new friends and have experiences you wouldn't have dreamt of having. When you move to a different country you get to start fresh, and it is amazing.

To make this a little more personal, I recently moved into an apartment in my church to work part time as a Youth Leader. Yeah, when finals hit and I have a meeting to prepare for, it will hurt. Being so away from my parents hurts a bit. But I am being so blessed by all of the goodness that comes with this. My apartment is amazing, and everyone tells me how grateful they are that I am here. It will hurt a little, like my fingers sting in a way that I can't put into words, but I can't put the joy I feel in living here into words either.

Back to the guitar thing, the first few times you play, your fingers hurt so badly you never want to play again. It doesn't even sound like music when you're playing because you can't press down hard enough on ribbed steel strings in order to get it to make a good sound. But the magic of the thing is that when you push through the pain, you develop the ability to play chords, notes, songs, etc. It's an amazing feeling to make music, especially if the music is going back to God.

So yes, following God is supposed to hurt. Growing up and starting your own life is supposed to hurt.

But living His path for your life gives you a high that nothing else can.