September 2008

I was probably twelve years old at the time.  I was on a Boys Brigade camping trip in Ohio and wading down a river.  The water was chest high and everything was fine.  Then it happened:  I fell into a hole and went under water.  O, by the way, did I tell you that I could not swim?   Well, I went under the water, came up and screamed for help.  Back under the water, fearing I was going to die.  I suppose this continued for less than a minute, although it seemed like much longer.  One of the trip leaders pulled me out and I was saved. 

That event changed my life.  I could not swim at the time and was trying to feel more comfortable in the water.  Almost drowning convinced me that the water was not my friend and could not be trusted.  Ever since, I have avoided situations where I would find myself in water above my head.  Now, before you approach me and attempt to convince me that swimming is not that hard, please understand; I know you are right.  I know the physics of it.  Water is more dense than the human body and so can float.  All I need to do is relax in the water and let it do its stuff. 

Easier said than done.  When I get in the water, I take my past with me.  As long as I am standing on the bottom of the pool, or river, I feel good, I am in control.  At the point where I need to trust the water to support me, something happens.  I freeze.  Although my brain is telling my body to relax, my gut is telling me that I am in big trouble.  I believe that I will die unless I take control of my destiny.  So I flail my arms, I thrash in the water, I work as hard as I possibly can to keep myself on top of the water and fail miserably.    Ironically, the harder I work, the more surely I will sink.

Because of my past it is very difficult for me to believe what I know to be true.  I know that I can float if I relax in the water.  But I was there when I almost drowned and that experience seems to trump what my head tells me.  How do I convince my gut that my head knows what it’s talking about?
 
My walk with God often places me in a similar situation.  I read the Bible, I know that God is strong enough, God is wise enough, and God loves me enough to be trustworthy.  The problem is that my experiences sometimes give my gut reason to disbelieve those truths.   When my prayers are not answered the way I wish, the temptation is to believe that God is not wise, strong or loving enough and that I am on my own.  In my attempt to fend for myself, I begin thrashing around and sink spiritually just as I sank into the water back in Ohio.

How do we overcome our fear?  How do we learn to believe the truth when our gut shouts louder than our head?  As I have struggled with these questions (in the water and in my relationship with God) I have some advice to offer:

1. Practice in the shallow end.  It makes sense to learn how to tread water and float in shallow water rather than deep.  It allows us to feel the support of water without risking our lives – we can stand up whenever we wish.  In our relationship with God we can do the same.  Trust God for the little things in our lives and learn to feel his support for us in ways that are not life and death.  As we learn to feel God’s touch in our lives, we can search for that touch during more anxious moments and be encouraged to trust God in increasingly deeper water.
2. Practice with friends.  If I go into the pool with a friend who knows how to swim, I will do much better than if I go in by myself.  Their experience and encouragement will help me do things that I would not have the courage to do on my own.  In my spiritual walk with God, I desperately need the encouragement and wisdom of my friends.  We often think of our relationship with God as personal, this can be a deadly mistake.  God has formed us as a community of believers to help and be helped, to encourage and be encouraged.  And when we go under and take on water, we can pull each other out of the pool and perhaps even breathe life back into lifeless bodies.

One final piece of advice.  Even experienced swimmers can be surprised by what happens in the water.  Undertow, riptides, muscle cramps, or other problems can cause difficulty.  Even Michael Phelps needs to respect the water lest he finds himself at its mercy.  In our relationship with God, respect is paramount.  If we see God as a means to our end we will find ourselves flailing in the water, trying to stay afloat.  If we learn to respect God and allow him to hold us, even when we are not granted our requests, we can feel the support and know that we will ultimately be safe.