Do you remember the first time you:
- Went into the deep end of the pool?
- Jumped off the high dive?
- Rode your bike without training wheels?
- Drove a car by yourself?
- Spoke in front of a crowd and didn’t die?
- Spent the night in your house alone?
- Spoke to someone at a party/event without them talking to you first?
I remember going to summer camp in Fairbanks, AK. At Camp LiWa (Living Waters) my senior year, the camp director was a guy named Myron Richardson. A good friend, passionate human, sometime youth pastor and former Marine, he did what he could to share his life experiences with us by giving us opportunities to do cool stuff. One of those things was rappelling; you know, falling down a cliff on purpose.
Because I was extremely afraid of heights, I volunteered to hold the ropes at the bottom of the cliff. (I know it has a name, ‘belay’ or something like that.) The whole time I was holding the ropes, something inside me was trying to talk me into going to the top of the cliff and rappelling down. I managed to stave off the crazy man inside me and walked away from the cliff without injury.
But regrets? I’ve had a few…
As I walked away, I had this thought; “What if that was the last time I ever have a chance to rappel?”
God used this event to shape my life. Now, when I’m presented with an opportunity to do something that I might not get to do later, I usually do it (I draw the line at most carnival rides…). I got an opportunity to test this about a year later on a confidence course. I was standing on a log suspended between two trees about thirty feet above the ground and had to step onto a 3×3 platform with no rope. It took me fifteen minutes of staring at the platform, but I did it. And no, I haven’t had a chance to go rappelling in the twenty-five years that have passed.
It seems like everything in life is a metaphor for something else. I’m sure that most of you know that in order to grow, we need change and/or struggle. If you don’t drive by yourself, you will be forever dependent on others
for your transportation. So, you risk getting into an accident to gain
the independence of driving. It’s not easy to ride without training wheels, but you will NEVER learn to ride with the training wheels on. Therefore, you have to risk getting a skinned knee to get the benefit of riding a bike.
Here’s the twist; when you take the training wheels off your bicycle, you are learning that YOU can ride without training wheels. But a life lived by faith isn’t about you at all; it’s about God. Taking the training wheels off of your Christian life isn’t about learning to do it yourself and growing in independence; it’s about becoming dependent.
What about your Christian life? Are you still riding with your training
wheels? Are you still swimming in the shallow end of the pool, afraid
that you will drown if you venture beyond the rope? It’s time to ask your Father to take off the training wheels and teach you how to be dependent on Him. It’s time to go some place where the training wheels don’t fit and you might fall and skin your knees. But, the really cool thing is, your Father will be there, ready to pick you up and take care of your knees. And, because he’s your Father, he won’t put the training wheels back on…
I do remember the first night I spent alone in a unfinished 1500 square foot log house in the woods of Arkansas after my husband died while we were on vacation in Missouri in 1989. We had just buried him in Kansas and my children had brought me back to Arkansas and gone on their way home.
Mark, I always enjoy reading your posts here. Often times I find myself opening up my email, clicking on and reading your blog alert first, and then closing it all out with a great feeling of conviction. I’ve especially enjoyed your last few posts and how they’ve ended with questions about the reader’s faith. Thank you for this ministry you provide throughout the week and the questions that you ask us. You told me a while ago that a good church should always inspire some sort of conviction every Sunday and I am understanding this more and more. I’ve been trying to take my training wheels lately but I find myself constantly burdened with the financial fears of this world. I don’t doubt that God will provide a way for me and my family to live, but I do fear that it might not be the way I want it to be. As a result, I keep those training wheels on.
Brother, thank you for what you do. I’m certainly blessed to have you in my life!