Have you ever had a conversation with someone, say a close friend, in which everything that you said to them turned out to be a truth that you needed to hear?
In other words, the circumstance that they were in, the thoughts and feelings they had, mirrored your own and when you attempted to speak into it you realized that you had not practiced what you were preaching.
I have a real bad habit of being “that person.” Let’s be honest, plenty of Christians know what to say, know what to recommend: more of Jesus. But when it comes to walking that out, well… we stay put.
Last week, one of my closest friends expressed to me that she was very “unsure” about a particular situation she was in. She knew where she wanted to be, confident of the destination that she hoped to arrive at, but was afraid of taking the next step to get there.
Confident that I could help encourage her from “past” experiences, I spoke up.
Well ___________ (friend’s name), at some point you will have to determine that if the destination holds greater value than where you stand now, you have to step out into the water. Just like the Israelites. When the Lord brought them to the river, He promised to lead them across dry land, but they had to put their feet in first. They had to obey His direction even when they didn’t understand the course.
God promises to grant you the desires of your heart, and if you think you see them just on the horizon, but the river of fears is at your feet, you have to step in first before He can dry them up.
And who’s to say that the roaring water isn’t just a farce. We all have our insecurities and doubts. But what if we stepped out into them… I wonder if we wouldn’t realize how shallow they really are. More than that, what waits on the other side should be the bigger motivation. Freedom. Deliverance. Life no longer defined or dictated by fear.
Take the chance. Take just one step.
In that moment, I heard a third voice in our conversation.
“Psst, Mere. God here. I hope you paid attention to what you just said. Ironically enough, that’s what I have been trying to tell you but you keep avoiding me.”
She didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. Turns out, I had spoken the very thing I had heard spoken to me, but instead of being encouraged and taking the chance, taking that step, I said “thanks,” and kept sitting on the water’s edge staring at the river.
At least my friend had her eyes on the horizon. My gaze had been completely fixated on the rushing water.
If you sit in one place long enough, convincing yourself that your comfortable where you are and that you can manage your fear simply by looking at it, you’ll find you lose sight of the vision because you became consumed by the view.
My friend just looked at me. “That’s huge,” she said.
“Yeah,” I replied dryly. “Guess I should give it a shot since I told you too, huh?”