April 13, 2011

Why try and try and try again?


This lake I know; it raised me. Its pebbles and loon calls spiral within my DNA. Constricting my veins, its frigid spring water bubbles from my moptop to browned feet. This lake I know; this lake I fear.

Fright pulls at my ankles though safety swims by my side: dad, mom, sisters, nanny, grampy, uncle bill, aunt becky. I splash in the joy; belly flop in the angst. Wrinkled toes hungrily wiggle, inching toward the invisible line separating the touchable bottom and palpitating deep of The Drop Off.

My convict orange cape preserves my bravado. This time, this time I'm Wonder Woman and will go where no man has gone before. To the ledge, my trusty life preserver bobs me. Feet slip on shifting sand, sucking out breath and courage. Iron flavored panic fills my mouth.

Fear and exhilaration enter the ring. Round and round they go; fear wades out of the water, fist pumps in victory, always. I despise him. I disappoint myself.

Cowering is justified. The drop off is reckless electric eels & snapping turtles, stalking chilled depths, ravenous for ten snacks at the end of my legs. That's true. Straight from older, world-wise cousins. They should know. After all, they warned me ET lives in the outhouse.

No matter. I risk no alien encounters in the woods and tomorrow I don my cape, bob, flirt, wish: this time, this time I'm Wonder Woman and will risk crossing the ledge.


'cause there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away. ~Sarah Kay


Calendars flip while fear and exhilaration go head to head. Sneak peek in the latter's closet. A dusty champion belt hangs in the back behind public speaking trophies & heartbreak-facing medals.

Why try and try and try again? Others swim past the drop off line, dive ten degrees deeper - twenty degrees chillier; grins stretching to the back of their heads. Me too! I beg my flighty bravado. Me too! My flag has every right to be staked in that joy, freedom, living.

My sweet little heart believed. Hoped with all the dickens I could consume. Tenaciously I nurtured this expectation.Abraham waded in similar waters, toes lapped with faith, hope.

Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness {Romans 4:3}.

He was firmly persuaded; as in something with the idea of hope. A certain expectation carried Abraham. Believed, as used here, takes root in the Greek family tree of the word Pisteuo. Pisteuo's branches stem from the hearty bark of Pistis, also known as Faith.

Abraham dared more than to don a cape, only to bob, flirt, wish: this time, this time. He deposited hope, expectation, faith in today; more than in tomorrow. He planted his flag in a sure thing: the hope and life God gives.

Let's us do the same. We've bobbed near the drop off throughout our Jumping off the Train series. Today, let's cross that line in our hearts and minds. The place we fear to go; the place we know holds delicious freedom. Together, face the electric eels and snapping turtles; transform from fear-filled to faith-filled, tentative to tenacious.

Going deeper:
Quiet racing pretenses of what listening to the Lord is. Simply be. Turn off the tv, computer, phone. Open your heart with thanks and gratitude to the King. Confess anything that comes to mind. Take a big refreshing exhale and invite His presence and peace. Stay there for moments.

{What} is hiding in the abyss of your heart you've thus far been unwilling to dive into; but are ready to face and be done with?

Reflect on Romans 4:3. Do you have expectations, hope, faith that there is freedom? Why or why not? Log your thoughts. If yes, praise the Lord, asking Him to align them with His. If no, praise the Lord for the good things He's already planned for you.

Insert your name in Romans 4:3? {I believe (am... firmly persuaded. hopeful. have faith) God, and it is credited to me as righteousness.}

Loads of prayer for you friends!

xoxo, Sam

8 comments:

Sharon Sloan - Joy In The Truth said...

Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

Hugs,
Sharon

stephanie said...

Perfect timing for me to read this, as I am starting a book proposal, again, for what seems as if it is the hundred millionth time! Which one is going to be the one I actually finish? I wonder. Which one when I finish it will be the one that gets accepted? I wonder. But trusting...having faith that when the time is right...God's got it all planned out!

Fields of gold said...

Sharon, I thought about your and Jim's lake story from this past summer and how God meets us any and every where!!

Love you!!

Fields of gold said...

Sweet Stephanie.... I prayed for you last night and didnt' know why! Now I do!! Keep plugging away girl. God has given you a message that is dear to His heart and speaks His truths.

I know it's frustrating. In the weak moments... the fearful, dreadful moments... that you feel His gentle hands lift you up, rock you tenderly and sing songs over you.

He's got Good Hope-filled plans for you! I love watching them unfold!! Please send me specific prayer requests!!

xoxo

Danielle said...

*sigh*

there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away. ~Sarah Kay

*sigh* Again!

I'm sitting here basking in the poetic song of your writing. So powerful and moving on their own, but with the knowledge of God and His wonder and spender--It's almost too much!

I want to take picture 3 and stare at it and imagine myself sitting in those seats with the Lord resting next to me... conversation flows, but without words. I'm linking to Him in such a way that they aren't needed. He knows. And I know.

*sigh*

P.S. Did you take the pictures?

Fields of gold said...

Dear Danielle~ your sigh echoes deep in my ears. I hear ya. Oh to sit in those chairs with the water warm as fresh honey from the golden sun, kissing our toes....

I pray you find a comfort such as picture 3 to unwind and detach from cares and woes... where words fall like leaves in fall, whispering sweet nothings from the heart of our good Savior.

Your words of encouragement fill my heart with gratitude. Towards a God who sees fit to bestow them upon my tongue and to clickety-clack them out from my fingertips. And to women who encourage other women. Thank you.

Love how linked you are to the Lord!

p.s. my aunt took these pics... it's her front yard. and yes, i fight jealousy daily! it's my "happy place" when the world shakes me. so glad you enjoyed the pics!

Rebecca said...

My dear Sweet Sam,
After reading your wonderful words Uncle Bill and I (Aunt Becky) realize how much and how deeply this place touches us all. Mornings as I walk to the beach with coffee in hand I remember all the "littles" that have played, jumped, danced, swam, laughed and yes had a few tears. ET has moved away and the way of indoor plumbing has taken over but the snapping turtles and eels remain in the deep. The jumping rock does not look as large to grown up eyes but still reaches to the sky for the children. The loons have returned and they are you calling you back.
Love you always,
Aunt Becky

Fields of gold said...

Dear Aunt Becky,

Surely I inherited your love of the lyrical (along with so many other sweet characteristics!). Oh, the countless chubby cheeks toddling with pail in hand; tanned arms doggy paddling to the dock; eager young eyes dreaming of swimming over the Drop Off, ALL the way across the lake to conquer the Chicken Ledge. I can envision each one.

Sigh. The Lake is my go-to Happy Place. Grampy and Nanny in the lawn chairs under the trees; barefeet pricked on the path to and from the cabin; Becky and Dan humorously amusing us kids in the Bunk House. Thank you for gallons of potato salad, forests of bonfires, and more love than the sand on the shore. For every child to have a bank full of such cherished memories is my wish.

I hear the loons...

Love you, Sammy

p.s. i owe you a huge thank you for teaching me the ins and outs of "outdoor plumbing" when ET was just too scary to face in the outhouse! :)