I’ve long wanted to sail. You should see the beautiful view stashed away in my mind. It’s complete with the words “Martha’s Vineyard”, madras plaid, and details like a clambake on the beach. (Never mind I can’t so much as spell the state Martha’s Vineyard is in, never worn madras without having it rip, and detest clams.)
From the land, I can see it – the canvas sails filling with air, the perfectly aged boat, the sun on the ocean.
The details of the dream seem to stop once I’m on board. Not too sure about that – the actual sailing part.
About five years ago, a kind family member, meaning well, asked me if I knew much about the way sailboats worked. I confessed, aside from “sailing” on the Banana River while at Girl Scout camp, I knew nothing. She shared something interesting. When the sails catch the wind, and the boat begins to really move, it tips to the side…and at times it feels as though you’re nearly sideways. Sailboats were made to do that she explained, but it can seem like you are a second away from flipping over. If you aren’t expecting such motion, it can be terrifying.
My relaxing vision changed. I could feel my throat tighten. I quickly told her I take the dream back. I had no desire to sail sideways and almost fall in. No, thank you! Not for me. She is known for her adventuresome spirit, so I knew it was bad when she said it even scared her a bit. I am a long-time worry-wart, with a constant stomachache, always convinced the best way is the safe way. Once I heard her confession, I buried that dream as fast as I could.
Until this year.
Maybe it’s because I went too long without the beach. Lately, though I’ve been feeling that pull. Because for years now, this sailing dream has not left. I tried my best to keep it buried. I’ve ignored it. Shoved it aside, until I’d drive over a bridge, and see those sailboats in the water.
Finally, the pull grew stronger than the fear. Pretty soon, it was clear. These knocking knees? They were pointing me in the exact direction I needed to go.
Never did I think my dream would change and grow into what it has. At times I start to get a little glimpse of the how this wild puzzle is coming together and I am convinced there is no possible way I could be used like that.
And that’s when it hits me, I’m struggling against becoming something God already knows me to be.
That’s the very reason He’s calling me.
It’s requiring a faith, that is honestly hard at times. I’ve seen Him move in incredible ways in the last few years. I know He can restore the years the locusts have eaten. I know He still parts the sea for His people. I know He still speaks and I know He can change situations in unimaginable ways. But this…oh, this! That sailboat is calling, but part of me is wondering just how far over it I will lean as it glides through the ocean. Will I fall in?
But God. He encourages me. Reminds me, every single thing that has happened in my life, is being used for good. Even those swimming lessons I screamed and cried through when I was little. The ones that allowed me to finally fall in love with the water.
Those once painful, early lessons – the ones I was certain were killing me – are the very things that help me trust I won’t drown even if I do fall in.
Has your God-sized dream changed?
So reassuring. Oh we do go kicking and screaming at times. But just like my Dad who used to stand in the water, coaxing me to leap into his big safe arms, God our Father will catch us. And when you fall in, He will be your anchor. So have no fear…He is waiting! (And you might think I’m crazy, but I believe your feelings are the mark of a true God adventure…Scary, yes, but there is NOTHING better!)
Wonderful reminder, Elise!! And your words (“…you might think I’m crazy…”) made me think of something Mark Batterson says in In a Pit With a Lion – something to the effect that “Call me crazy” has become his standard sentence. Because living as a Lion Chaser (a/k/a God-sized dreamer!) means doing things other people think are crazy! 🙂 So, NO!! I don’t think you’re crazy!! I think you’re exactly right – which might mean we’re both a little crazy…ha!