Into the Deep

The year was 1967. My firstborn, 13 months old at the time, was enjoying her first excursion to the Atlantic Ocean under the watchful eyes of her daddy and me. The scene in this photo is typical of any beach picture taken of me throughout my life . . . I am always at the water’s edge – never in the deep.

Fear kept me in the shallows. FEAR - incited by respect for the power of the ocean and fueled by my lack of swimming skills drew boundaries for me at every ocean visit. They are boundaries that I respect to this very day.

This morning I read a marvelous illustration in the devotional book I am using in my quiet time. God has used the author’s words to wash over my heart in swirling waves of personal application.

Picture with me a great rolling river as symbolic of your life’s journey. For me, it would be a river like the Mississippi or the Ohio – one that runs a long distance. I have lived for what the Bible would call threescore and four years. A lot of living takes place in that many years!

Next, picture with me a leaf floating along the waters of that river. The leaf represents us – me or you – as we drift or are pushed along by the river’s currents in the journey we call life.

There are times the river of life is placid and we drift along enjoying the ride.

There are times we tumble through the river of life’s turbulence at an alarming pace.

There are times we bump up against debris and twigs.

Sometimes we get tangled in the debris and stay in one spot for awhile, helplessly watching the river rage past us while we make no forward progress.

The debris in the river represents the things in life that tangle us up so often: the world, our flesh, the devil. I can recall many times over the course of my life when I have been tangled and stalled by any one of those three. Can’t you?

Other times, our journey down the river of life may find us drifting into a shallow tributary where the water is stagnant. There we easily become bogged down in the mud and mire and feel that God has forsaken us. Such, for me, were my years spent in the muck and mire of depression.

But then the rains return and the torrents of God’s love dislodge us from the mud. Once again we find ourselves back, afloat in the river of life – and glad to be there – even with the ever present snags of debris, twigs, and broken branches.

Before we know it we are bumping along the river – tossing and tumbling through life. Occasionally we remember to allow the Holy Spirit to be our rudder but most of the time we simply drift through life – always in a hurry and never quite sure why.

Then, one day, our river meets the ocean and we find ourselves engulfed in a mighty whirlpool that pulls us under for awhile. That happened to me about a month ago. Unexpected. Unwelcome.

Initially when the whirlpool grasps us, we fight against its swirling waters and try to stay afloat through our own efforts. We long to remain in the familiarity of the river. But the whirlpool is too powerful and when we are pulled under and swept out to sea by the movement of the tide, we catch a glimpse of something new on the horizon and momentarily cease our unproductive flailing.

God mercifully allows us to glimpse the truth that there is a new work He wants to do in our life. He is calling us into the deep. David said it this way in Psalm 42:7 –

"Deep calls unto deep at the noise of Your waterfalls;
all Your waves and billows have gone over me."

This can be scary. Very scary. There’s an element of the unknown. It’s a place not traveled before. It’s a place we must go alone. It’s a place where self-sufficiency ends and death to self begins. There is a lot of pressure in the deep. Here, we must quit our struggle to stay afloat and be still under the weight of almighty God. It’s the only way we will come to know His ways – which are utterly and completely different than our own.

Yes, going into the deep can be scary. The question I must ask myself is, will I allow fear to keep me at the water’s edge like it has in times past? Or will I, in faith, step into the deep and allow God to do a fresh work in my life? Will I be willing to stay in the deep and keep trusting God when I feel like I am drowning and His work in my life is painful?

I have learned not to predict what I will or will not do; for just like the apostle Paul, sometimes the very things I do not want to do, I do. And sometimes the very things I DO want to do, I don’t. But these things I know: I trust God with my life. He is my Abba. He chose me in Him before the foundation of the world. He blesses me. He accepts me. He redeems me. He forgives me. And all because He loves me. How could I do anything BUT trust Him?

I do not know what the process will entail. I just know that I want to launch into the deep with HIM. "I’m ready, Abba. Let’s go!"