Another 3:30am wakeup. Diane says we should just move to the east coast and I’d fit in, waking up at 6:30. However, i can’t argue with the volume of quiet time I have.

Jesus Calling is pretty appropriate these days.  Actually, when I’ve been in this theme before, yet not facing imminent struggles, I guess I never feel that far away from its point about relying on Jesus.  One of the two scriptures is Jeremiah 1: “I will be with you; I will never forsake you. … Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

A very familiar passage. I was reflecting on the meaning of strong and courageous. How do we link the apparent paradox of that with the knowledge of our own weakness and brokenness? Is it something like, “Buck Up!. No need to be weak and broken for I am with you?”

Quick segue to Matthew 14 and Peter getting out of the boat, sinking and crying out and Jesus responding (I don’t think in an admonishment), “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

Some of you may know that I have Rembrandt’s beautiful painting of Matthew 8:23 hanging in my study, where Jesus calms the storm and says, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Two different scenarios, of course, but closely related.

My new favorite song for the past year or so has been Hillsong’s “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)”

These things were going through my head this morning as I contemplated strong and courageous.  It ended up going something like this:

We need strength to become courageous. We can assume strength to assist with our courage and maybe that gets us fairly far. In my experience, that ultimately failed. I was a very strong guy, quite capable, and actually pretty courageous. Unfortunately, I wasn’t courageous in some areas that really counted. And, my strength was kind of like Samson’s hair. All it took was some pretty good sharp shears and “poof!”

Jumping forward to courage before going back to strength and where all this is headed: Courage is about taking risks. Our faith as practiced widely is probably rarely about taking risks. Can anyone remember the last sermon that absolutely nailed what stepping out of the boat looks like in our present setting … when, perhaps, we’re not facing an existential crisis?

The gospel allows us to take risks. In fact, it requires it. Raw, unadulterated, risk. Sidebar: that was behind my last ounce of will when I quickly replied to God’s crisp and clear invitation to come home with, “You mean right now?”  As I’ve told it a gazillion times, he calmly said, “what are you waiting for?” Resolve dissolved. Courage flowed divinely and surrender compelled stepping out of the boat into the vastness of the unknown/known. Grace held me above the waves and there was no “you of little faith.”  Only infinite love and eternal life.

So, courage and surrender are the flip sides of the same coin. Explain that to this world! Courage to shed the old and lean into the new. Courage to do battle. Pick up a small stone and sling it against the giant, with the full knowledge we live within God’s reign and rule.

And, that’s where our strength comes from. Whether we doubt it or acknowledge it, it needs reminding.

Does our faith waver when things get especially tough? What, actually, do we have faith in?  I’m not one to judge and am “lost without you” (as the song “Breathe” repeats over and over), right now my faith doesn’t have a lot to do with expecting a certain outcome and making my belief in God dependent on that outcome.

Jesus is my strength and refuge. He performed the miraculous and maintained his faith in me and rescued me.  The rest is just the dessert.

And, through Jesus, I am surrounded by dozens and dozens (hundreds?) of dear friends, loved ones and even strangers, praying and offering support (strength). They and we are the body of Christ. This is how church was designed. I can’t help but be filled with immense joy. In fact, that joy is the source of my tears, which have flowed semi regularly over the past two weeks.

I look inside for fear and don’t find it in a big way. Anxiety? Yes.  Does Diane have fear? Probably but it is tempered by her remarkable faith.

As I write this, my head hurts. It had been better the last two or three days. Last night, some pain struck behind my right eye. Not a terrible pain by past standards but enough for me to take Tylenol, something I don’t want to do because I don’t want to mask symptoms. I need to stay on top of this.  Took Tylenol early today. Hope I don’t have to do it again.

Diane and I are both coming to grips with what this is. I have a time bomb sitting next to my brain. It can go off at any time, perhaps with a slight warning, perhaps not. We are fighting for my life right now.

But, we were given Life and we live with that most fundamental of all pieces of knowledge.

We have stepped out of the boat and feel embraced in his arms. Because we are still flesh and citizens of this world, we still look down at the water and it is hard. We are not saints.

Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of another sweet day. Thank you for my many brothers and sisters. Thank you for those whose strength and faith flow from you and into us. Thank you for doctors who care. Thank you for your faith in us. Thank you for grace and love. Thank you for joy in the midst of the storm. Oh my, that’s incredible! Lord, help me and us bless those who are hurting or lonely or ill or feel unloved. Help me to be your eyes, heart and hands.

Thank you for listening, dear ones.