When I was in
the army I worked for a bridging unit, building bridges and rafts to get tanks
and stuff from one side of a river to another.
It sounds
cool until you realize the enemy can see a long way on the water and can shoot
you. So you only get to build bridges in the middle of the night when everyone
else is sleeping.
On one such
nighttime excursion, someone dropped a bracket we used to connect the boat with
our giant metal raft. The bracket sank quickly to the bottom. As the lowest
ranking person close by I quickly “volunteered” to go into the water after it.
Army
regulations stated that if I was going to get into the water, I had to do it in
a lifejacket. The U.S. government had invested too much money in me and they
were not going to let their investment drowned.
I don’t know
if you’ve ever tried to dive under the water in a lifejacket but it’s kind of
like trying to jump after nailing your shoes to the floor.
I tried
desperately to get my head underwater, looking like an inept bobbing duck. It soon
became clear to everyone that I needed to unhook myself from my safety vest if
I was going to get anything done.
Only after
that was I able to plunge into the black water, fumble around the slimy bottom
and find the bracket.
I think if we
truly want to experience life and all God has for us we need to take off our
lifejackets. Yes there is comfort and safety in living a life without risk, but
it’s hard to get stuff done.
We wear
lifejackets at church, work, in our relationships with each other and with God
because we don’t want to get hurt.
As a result, we
never get the adventure of diving fully into each other’s lives or probing
around in the depths of God’s wonder. We miss experiencing the joy of finding
all that he has for us.
I’ll be
honest, it’s risky. Sometimes you just come away cold and wet, smelling like
pond scum and maybe even bitten by something. Engaging fully and loving deeply
leaves us vulnerable. I also know
if you don’t take a risk, on whatever God is asking, you’ll never get anything
done. You’ll bob around in safety, but never truly live.