I was deeply, inexplicably anxious today. For some reason I
felt tense and worried and impatient. But things are improving. Partly because
I asked Nadine to pray for me. I think that learning to rely on God begins with
relying on other people – you just have to get started with the relying.
Faith never promises to free us from sorrow, from pain, from anger even. But it does promise to free us, eventually, from worry. It is a slow, hard discipline, but surely we can learn to “instead of worrying, pray”. To put our lives in the hands of our Caring Father. Here’s a thought: to give someone something, you have to let go of it. If you ask for the ketchup, and I pick it up and hold it near you, you will not consider your request granted. I have to let go. To give it to you I have to let go. How many films have that moment where they have to let go of the sinking ship to be pulled onto the lifeboat? That’s faith. That’s trust. I have to let go.
But it’s more than letting go, and that image of the lifeboat has just reminded me. Rob Bell tells a story of a day at the beach: his young son was running about, gleefully collecting shells and showing them to his Mum and Dad, when suddenly he spots a huge, awesome starfish floating within paddling range. His family urge him on – “It’s yours, go get it!” Excited, he splashes out to sea, right up to the pointy prize. But then he turns and runs back. “Go on! You can get it! You were right there!” cheer the family, so he turns and goes out again, splashing determinedly. But once again, he turns back with no starfish.
“What’s wrong? Why can’t you get it?” his Dad asks. He replies, with tears in his eyes:
“Because my hands are full of shells.”
When we let go of our worries, our plans, our treasures, our ‘values’, our lives – we become free to take hold of something far, far better. Our empty hands can take His hand. We can obey the gentle whisper, Father to son, Mother to daughter, at the start of a great adventure –
Faith never promises to free us from sorrow, from pain, from anger even. But it does promise to free us, eventually, from worry. It is a slow, hard discipline, but surely we can learn to “instead of worrying, pray”. To put our lives in the hands of our Caring Father. Here’s a thought: to give someone something, you have to let go of it. If you ask for the ketchup, and I pick it up and hold it near you, you will not consider your request granted. I have to let go. To give it to you I have to let go. How many films have that moment where they have to let go of the sinking ship to be pulled onto the lifeboat? That’s faith. That’s trust. I have to let go.
But it’s more than letting go, and that image of the lifeboat has just reminded me. Rob Bell tells a story of a day at the beach: his young son was running about, gleefully collecting shells and showing them to his Mum and Dad, when suddenly he spots a huge, awesome starfish floating within paddling range. His family urge him on – “It’s yours, go get it!” Excited, he splashes out to sea, right up to the pointy prize. But then he turns and runs back. “Go on! You can get it! You were right there!” cheer the family, so he turns and goes out again, splashing determinedly. But once again, he turns back with no starfish.
“What’s wrong? Why can’t you get it?” his Dad asks. He replies, with tears in his eyes:
“Because my hands are full of shells.”
When we let go of our worries, our plans, our treasures, our ‘values’, our lives – we become free to take hold of something far, far better. Our empty hands can take His hand. We can obey the gentle whisper, Father to son, Mother to daughter, at the start of a great adventure –
“Hold on tight.”
P.S. I write this blog not as a teacher, but as a student
who’s not doing too well in class but just got what the Teacher has been trying
to say and excitedly shoves his hand in the air and has a go. Hopefully I will
manage to learn what I’ve just said a bit more in the next few weeks, months, and
years.
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