Do you sometimes find yourself saying, "Wow, I'm in the middle of a story"? Perhaps you're the prince of Denmark, and you suspect that your mother, in collusion with your uncle, committed regicide to claim the throne; or you wanted to visit your grandmother (who lived deep in the woods) to show off your brand new bright red riding hood. Whatever the case may be, those narratives exist and resonate with us for a reason. Identifying the right story can provide cues on how to proceed. While you're at it, watch Stranger Than Fiction.
The past few weeks have alternated between monotonous routine and sublime substantiations of things to come. In movie form, the monotony will be edited into a brief montage. The story I'm living in can be found in Matthew 14:22-33.
The story came up in Sunday school three weeks ago. I went in early to pick a seat, but ended up getting pulled out to help set up some technical stuff across the hall and wound up late for class. The teacher sat next to the door, so everyone faced the only entrance to the room.
I ended up standing around outside for a good 20-30 minutes. When kids walked by and asked why I was standing there for, I told them I got in trouble. Some gave me disapproving glances; others contemplated their own troublemaking ways and hopefully decided to turn a new leaf. I made that last part up.
When I finally screwed up the courage to waltz in (i.e. during an opportune passage reading), I bumped into the door frame and totally made a lot of noise. They were reading about Jesus walking on the water (I spent the entire reading looking up the passage). Apparently, that class was going to be about Peter, because the first question that was asked was, "Did Peter fail for sinking?"
To which I replied, most assuredly not. Of the Twelve on the boat, did anyone else try? In addition, he actually took several steps before complying with the laws of Physics and succumbing to his fears.
'Failure' is a fact of fallen life: our paths we walk are littered with pitfalls and stumbling blocks; (jumping metaphors now) the waters we navigate roil with storms and waves. Regardless of what we do, we will trip, we will fall, we will sink and we will end up covered in a lot of salty water. But the primary tenets of love, grace, mercy, healing and forgiveness all speak to getting up after we fall and trying to do better the next time. We are not Jedi, in which it is "Do or do not; there is no try." True failure is refusing to try for fear of falling.
So what's my part in this story?
Important events are coming to a head and I will not be in transition any longer. It's time to climb out of the boat, the little comfortable hovel of safety and routine I've built for myself, and take steps forward with my eyes on the prize. I will fall and I will sink, but I know who will pick me up when I do.
This story came up again the following week in a sermon from a guest speaker entitled "How to Walk on Water". If I wasn't sure about what was being said to me the first week, this was reinforcement. Except that I was sure, and it was more like a brick in the face.
