The last few Sunday worship services we’ve been trying to understand what Jesus meant when he said, “I came that (you) might have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10) I’ve been referring to Jesus’ statement as “Living Large God’s Way.” During this series we’ve considered faith; it’s necessity in our lives, the linkage faith might have with God’s actions, and the results of a lack of faith as well as the benefits of a robust, growing faith.
An experience I had repeatedly with my own father keeps coming to mind when
grappling with these faith issues.
As a small boy we would occasionally (rarely, would be more accurate) go to Des Moines shopping. This was before shopping malls and Amazon. Yes, there really was a time when you had to travel to a distant large city and search for a parking space on a busy downtown street and then walk several blocks to find the different stores you wanted to visit. For our family this was usually before Christmas.
As a small boy I wasn’t just turned loose, of course. There was a clear plan in place and there were no exceptions. My dad would reach down and extend his right index finger in my direction (this was one of those times when it was pointed my way that wasn’t followed by a statement that included something about “don’t try that again”) and I was told to grab ahold of it and stay attached.
I quickly learned that if I stayed “attached” to Dad I could go exciting places filled with new people and strange noises and smells and all sorts of stuff (consumer goods) that I heretofore didn’t even know existed. Like the vacuum thingie in the J.C. Penny store that took the cash (for you younger people, cash is the folding and jingly kind of money that people carried once upon a time) that you gave to the store worker who put it in a plastic cylinder which was then placed in a tube that had suction of some sort and “Zip!” your money went upstairs to some unseen person who checked the math, made change and sent it back “Zip!” and you were good to go.
I got to see all kinds of awesome things, all because I was holding onto my Dad’s finger. It was so important to stay attached that Dad would have to change my grip from his right index finger to his left so that he could get his billfold out. “Never,” he would repeat, “never, let go of my finger.”
In the winter time, there would be snow and slush in the streets and curbs and all I had to do was hold on for dear life and Dad would lift me over the wet stuff. Holding onto Dad’s finger really helped because from my four year old perspective, adult knee caps were about all that was visible most of the time, but of course Dad had a better vantage point and could see what was up ahead.
I’m sure I slowed him down, but he never seemed to care. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. Often, being close afforded opportunities for him to explain some new gadget to me, or to tell me about some new person that we might encounter. Often, his conversation included pointers about being polite, saying please and thankyou or not being rude, yet remaining reserved and careful around strangers.
None of these conversations could have taken place without being together.
You know where this thought is going, right? Faith is like holding onto our Heavenly Father’s finger. If we stay connected to God we can find ourselves going to all sorts of unexpected, wonderful places we could never find for ourselves. Holding onto God can lift us over obstacles and problems otherwise unsurmountable on our own. Or holding on to God can mean that when we do stumble, he is immediately available to care for us. Little lasting harm can come from enemies out to hurt us, if we remain in close proximity to The Father – the closer the better.
It's just a thought, but my Dad wanted me to trust him. There was a lot I didn’t understand. I was fearful at times, but Dad didn’t demand a high level of understanding for the process to work. But it quickly became apparent that a little bit of trust in Dad went a long way because it soon became obvious even to my young mind that Dad knew what he was doing and could be trusted. The more times I was obedient the more trips I got to go on. The more trips I went with Dad on the more I trusted him.
It's just a thought, but maybe we should try grasping hold of the Heavenly Father and holding on. Take little steps, short trips at first if you must. Soon your small limited faith will begin to grow. Your Heavenly Father won’t grow – he has always been big enough, but our view of him, our understanding of him, our faith in him will grow.
Just reach out. You’ll find he’s been there all along waiting for you, calling out to you.
He won’t let you down. Just stay attached.
It’s just a thought. What do you think?
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