Lessons Learned From A Waterslide

It’s summertime and that means it’s time for water-parks. So recently I ventured with my niece, nephew, and sister-in-law to White Water.

Our afternoon of family fun moved along with lots of laughing, splashing, and playing in the sun. That is, until I found myself waiting in a line in which the rides to my left and right looked like pipelines surrounded by heavy concrete. While this type of a waterslide was a favorite as a child, I no longer felt drawn to sliding down a tube in utter darkness. To this recovering control-freak, no thank you.

My sister-in-law seemed to notice at the same time. Would this ride be alright for me she wondered. What could I do? The line crowded in behind me closing off any escape. Plus, I wanted my niece and nephew to know that I am in fact a very cool aunt. So while inside a slow panic started erupting, I responded, “Yeah, sure. Besides it looks like only a small part of the ride is enclosed fully.” And then I started praying.

After my anxiety had ample time to swell in line, we finally reached the top. Armed with a double-tube, my excited nephew claimed me for his partner and we begin “boarding” our tube. The ride felt fun the first few seconds. Then the tunnel appeared.

Before I knew it darkness encompassed me. My heart rate quickened. Panic coursed throughout my body. My breathing all but stopped. How long will this uncertainty last? I felt us moving but had no idea where. Would there be a big drop? Would we curve? Would we be in here forever?

Finally light appeared and my whole body relaxed. Just as I felt pleased that I braved my fears, my niece ran up to me and shouted, “That was awesome! Let’s do it again, and this time I get to ride with you!” People really will do anything for the kids they love because I braved the darkness once again. And the second time wasn’t nearly as bad.

Later as I described my experience to a friend, a light dawned in my heart. I realized how this ride exemplified my walk with God in the midst of my present circumstances.

I don’t know the future. I can’t see the next steps. A current pulls me along that I’m unable to maneuver. I have no control. I feel stressed, worried, anxious. I struggle to trust in God’s provision as Jesus promised (Matt 6:25–34).

Yet I hear God whisper, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you” (Is 43:2). He promises to walk with us through, and not necessarily deliver us from, the raging rivers. His presence then is our hope.

Instead of seeking deliverance from darkness, God invites me to lean into the arms of comfort already present. Think of movie scenes in which people suddenly find themselves in an unlit, creepy house at midnight. They usually step toward, and even grab the arm, of the person with them. Dark places, as such, seem to lend themselves to drawing us closer to those around us.

Perhaps you too find yourself in similar times. You need answers but only have questions. You seek direction but get more turned-around. You look for relief but only feel more grief. You long for love but feel lonely. You crave strength but can barely stand.

In the shadowy moments, God offers Himself. Besides that’s what life is, knowing Jesus and His Father (John 17:3). That’s why the disciples constantly experienced joy in the midst of trials, heartache, persecution. They focused on drawing close to Christ. When He’s our passion, the twists and turns of life offer a new joy.

So in our confusion, pain, doubt we can move toward the Person present with us. To the One of whom David writes, “Even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You” (Ps 139:12).

Who is Louie, Matt or Francis?

I love Passion City Church. I have followed Louie Giglio for years and when he started a church in Atlanta, I knew that would be my home church. The music is incredible. The speaking passionate and empowering. The worshippers engaged and sold out for Jesus.

So too I am a huge fan of Matt Chandler. Not only am I drawn to his teaching style, the depth of wisdom and the grace of Christ revealed, but I’m inspired by how he responded to his cancer diagnosis. Though I have never met him, I am often reminded of his humble, God-fearing, God-honoring response. It helps me battle my own bouts of bitterness.

And I was first introduced to Francis Chan when a friend sent me a book of his. After reading it, I heard his preaching for the first time, and I was immediately drawn in. His passion, his humor, his vulnerability all drew me, along with many others, to listen and eagerly seek out more of his talks.

Tim Keller is another well-known pastor and author who strengthens my faith. I am drawn to his gospel-centered approach to, not only his teaching, but all of life. The gospel changes everything; Keller helps me understand how.

And how can I forget Beth Moore? I’ve completed almost all of her Bible studies and read many of her books. I love her speaking style, her devotion to Christ, her down-to-earth way of teaching.

So it’s not uncommon for you to hear me throw these names, along with others, around. I often suggest listening to a Matt or Louie sermon. I recommend Beth’s Bible studies. I encourage New Yorkers to attend Keller’s church. I boast how a Francis Chan talk has started to change my life.

But the other day I began to wonder if I, along with others, have begun to cross a line in our praise for these men and women of God. At times our conversations even seem to turn into a type of competition for who is a better teacher, speaker, author, or overall communicator. It's as if we pit our super-hero (of the faith) against our friend's super-hero and see who is stronger. Thinking of this, I was reminded of Paul’s words to the church at Corinth, “For when one says, ‘I am of Paul,’ and another, ‘I am of Apollos,’ are you not mere men? What then is Apollos? And what is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, even as the Lord gave opportunity to each one” (I Cor 3:4, 5).

The reason I am drawn to Louie, Matt, and Beth ultimately has nothing to do with them. Don’t get me wrong. I think they are talented, gifted, graced individuals. But they are not the end. Jesus is. Jesus saves. Jesus heals. Jesus restores. His Spirit empowers. His Spirit transforms. His Spirit moves in our hearts. So it’s not Francis Chan’s talk that is changing my life; it’s the Spirit of Christ in me who is.

While I know we would not intentionally put these men and women in the place of God, if we aren’t on guard as we sing their praises, I wonder if our hearts could elevate them to idol status. I wonder if it could be possible to adore the servant instead of the Savior.

So as we rejoice in their gifts and gladly receive what the Spirit has given them for the building up of the Church, may we ever be mindful that it is not the one who plants nor the one who waters who is anything but God who moves in grace (I Cor 3:7). As Paul summarizes, “So then let no on boast in men. For all things belong to you, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or things present or things to come; all things belong to you, and you belong to Christ; and Christ belongs to God” (I Cor 3:21-23).