“There are times when Jesus asks us to do things that we don’t want to do, when we feel tired, or when what we’re being asked to do seems to make no sense to us. I have, on many occasions, been a very reluctant disciple. For us, the deep water is the place where Jesus calls us to go when we’d rather stay on the shore. We feel Christ calling and we drag our feet, and sometimes we even say no.”
Rev. Adam Hamilton, “Simon Peter: Flawed but Faithful Disciple”
There’s an old story that has been going around for what seems to be as long as I have been a Christian. The story is often called “Footprints in the Sand.” It tells the story of Jesus looking back over the life of someone as she notes that there are two sets of footprints on the beach of life. Sometimes the two are there together, side by side. Sometimes one set walks alone.
The faithful woman looks to Jesus with disappointment and talks about how sad it was to walk alone through the dark times. To her surprise, Jesus gently tells her that she is mistaken. Where there are only two feet walking in the sand, it isn’t that God was absent in such moments. Instead, those were the moments where Jesus was carrying her.
My favorite versions of the story then have the woman asking about the places where there is one set of footprints and two long ditches. Sometimes, she dug in her heels and had to be pulled along. In the really amusing versions, Jesus then goes on to explain the trails of fingerprints desperately clawing into the earth.
Do I identify with Rev. Hamilton saying that there are moments where we sometimes selectively listen, drag our feet, or even say no to God’s call on our lives? Yes. I will admit that I have had moments where I selectively listened, drug my own feet, and even said no with a stamping foot. Was that healthy? Generally not, but the past is what it is and there’s no going back to change things.
Sometimes I have absolutely said no to what God had for me. For years I refused to talk about my experiences, refused to ask for help, and even turned away the people who expressed concern about the ways I was dealing with my stress. To use recovery language, I was building up resentments and using tools to deal with problems that would eventually become problems as big as the original challenges. Instead of saying yes to God and yes to others, I determinedly and pig-headedly stuck to my plan. I didn’t need help, I didn’t need assistance, and I didn’t need anyone to advocate for me.
I was stubborn as a mule and was treated like one as a result of my own choices. Instead of saying no and asking for help, I become more and more entangled with my own pride. Hear me clearly: even when other issues raged, my pride was debilitating. Was Jesus there at my side offering help? Yes. Could I have asked for help at any time? Yes. Could I have even listened when people asked why I was being verbally assaulted in a gas station in front of church members by my partner? Yes. Did I do such things? No. I refused to go out into the water. I refused to let down my nets. I refused to ask for help and I continue to pay the consequences for not calling for help when violence entered my life by my own choices.
Here is some good news. I don’t have to be pig-headed today. I can choose to love someone who loves me back, choose to offer her my best while offering her the ability to set her own boundaries, and I can set my own boundaries and expect her to honor them. I can not only recover from that side of things, but I can ask her to support me as I recover from my disease. How wonderful is it when a relationship is healthy enough that the boundaries and enouragements become a given when neither person wants to hurt the other one?
Friends, you can go into the deep waters and let down the nets. You can recover even if you struggle with substance abuse and/or domestic violence. You can find community to love you and support you both within church doors and within twelve-step groups. You can let the nets down when God asks you to set out into deep waters.
Will it be easy? Maybe not. Will you be reluctant? I once was. Will it be better even when all of the comfortable things that go with the bad things go away? Someday, yes, but it takes time. There is hope and you don’t have to do things alone.
Our church is offering a short-term Bible study for the season of Lent. While many studies for the season traditionally focus on spiritual practices or on the stories of holy week, this year we are reading “Simon Peter: Flawed but Faithful Disciple” by Rev. Adam Hamilton. The idea of the study is that we might consider how we follow Christ in our lives while considering the life of this flawed follower. These blog posts are designed with a principle I have learned from recovery work: “We identify with the stories of others and try not to contrast.” We grow more and live with greater serenity when we look for what we share in common with someone with whom we might otherwise disagree.