If you live anywhere Up North like I do, you will probably know the feeling of the first summer excursion on “the lake” – always Memorial Day weekend. It may be 30 degrees or 70 degrees, but it’s usually blustery and you wear the Minnesota “uniform” of sweatshirt and shorts.
It’s the weekend when all the boat piers get put in and you’re so anxious for it to truly be summer that you screw up your courage and jump into the icy cold water at least once to say you did.
Remember the “Memorial Day Weekend jump-in-the-lake” story in the Gospels? It’s a dark and windy night on the Sea of Galilee in Matthew 14 when the disciples are in their boat alone and are being “buffeted by the waves”.
Jesus scares them by coming out to them walking on the water (you know, the way you do if you’re God, right?). He reassures the disciples that it really is Him and not the Ghost of Christmas Past, but Peter says “Prove it! If it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.”
Jesus says “Ok, come on out!”
Peter clambers over the side of the boat and starts walking, but then he looks around him at what the wind is whipping up and starts to sink.
Like a harness on a ropes course, Scripture says, “Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand.”
What was it that motivated Peter to get out of the boat? Jesus’ invitation? Fear of the alternative without Jesus? A sense of adventure?
This story got me thinking about the different things that prompt any of us to get out of our boats of same ol’ same ol’.
3 things that God may use to get out of your boat:
1. Invitation (this may be the least likely one, so read on!)
I had a lunch meeting nine years ago. The purpose was for me to help a World Vision guy do some brainstorming and networking. At least that’s what I thought.
I’m pretty creative. I’m good at ideas. I’m also good at making work for other people. It’s a gift. So I was feeling good about meeting with Bradley (the guy) and giving him some ideas. That is until he finished telling his story, turned to me and said, “I want you to run a half-marathon with Team World Vision to raise money for clean water in Zambia.”
What the what?! Not much surprises me. Even less than that leaves me speechless. This did.
I don’t run. Unless I’m running from a bear.
As I reflected on the possibility, Fear whispered in my ear:
- What if you really can’t do it? What if you don’t finish?
- What if you let people down?
- What if you don’t raise any money?
Honestly, one of the loudest whispers was: This will be a painful, grueling boatload of work and you don’t want to do it.
But there was this invitation that said, “Get out of the boat. This is more important than your discomfort.”
Years ago in Zambia I danced with women as a well was dug and fresh water gushed out. They sang “Come and see what God has done.” The old woman next to me spoke in wonder “He saw us. He answered our prayers.” I thought, “Wouldn’t be incredible to part of an answer to someone’s prayers?”I think, in this case, God’s answer to the fear of getting out of my boat was “What if I run with you and do something bigger in and through you for others than you think is possible?”
Sometimes an invitation from others is also an invitation from God to get out of your boat.
2. Loss
Six years ago, a dear friend of ours died suddenly, leaving his wife as a relatively young widow. Her grief was intensified as well-meaning people made thoughtless comments or unhelpful gestures.
As an introvert, she would have liked to stay curled up in her bed all day every day, but instead, she got out of her boat (that looked like a bed). She created a class to help people learn to sensitively walk alongside their friends experiencing trauma or loss. This was hard and scary, but it gave her purpose in the midst of her grief, and it equipped others in a much needed way.
Sometimes stepping out of your boat means turning mourning into mission.
3. Need
About 10 years ago our daughter Maggie was doing a summer internship at a girls’ school in northern Uganda. Her job was to create a sex ed curriculum, but in the process of discerning where to start, she discovered that most of the girls were missing 3-4 days of school a month when they had their period, because they lacked resources to buy sanitary napkins (tampons are culturally inappropriate). There was a need that had huge consequences for the education of girls.
Maggie could have just stuck to her assignment, but getting out of her boat meant finding ways to innovate. The school included training the girls in sewing, so Maggie googled how to make reusable sanitary napkins and taught the girls how to make their own.
For her husband, Austin, getting out of his boat looked like carrying cartons of disposable sanitary napkins I had collected here in the states through customs on his first international trip. He delivered them to Maggie in Uganda, so they could also keep a closet of these for emergency needs.
Sometimes stepping out of your boat means tackling insufficiency with innovation.
Can you relate to any of these? Has there been a time when you’ve been prompted to “get out of your boat”? What happened? Share in comments!
