On a trip to Florida last year my dad and I rented a paddle board! Now I had never even successfully paddled a kayak so this was an entirely new experience for me. We started out in the shallow waters and my dad would patiently walk along behind me, talking me through paddling and steering me along. I learned quickly and soon was taking off on my own by the evening. The tide had changed by around 6pm and I had a fantastic experience of paddle boarding in the sunset and feeling the pull back toward the shore. I would fight the waves to go out as far as I could only to be pushed continually along the beach until I washed up on a sandbar. My dad would follow me on the beach so he could meet me and carry the board along back to where I started. I remember feeling so confident and unafraid because I knew no matter how far I went I knew the tide would wash me back to my dad.
Next morning I was back on the beach and couldn’t wait to get a couple hours on the board before I returned it. The water was perfectly calm and serene from a distance. I jumped up immediately, expecting the water to be perfect and bring me right back to the shore as it did the night before. I paddled out for a bit and realized pretty quickly that though the water looked still, I couldn’t see at all beneath the surface like I could the day before. I crossed my legs and sat quietly, listening and feeling the waves beneath me. I was pulled out by the call of a kayaker nearby, turning my attention to a sea turtle he had seen. I turned around to realize he was a good distance away from me and I couldn’t see my dad anymore beyond him. That was the first moment I realized I had drifted off further than I planned. I started an attempt to paddle back toward the kayaker and was overcome by the struggle immediately.
I called out to the kayaker and he eventually, with the help of some other paddle boarders, guided me (maybe pulled me a bit too!) the shore to my dad who was very close to calling 911. (Praying that my mom didn’t look out the window to see me as a black dot on the horizon some 500 yards from the beach!)
I was completely unanchored for about forty-five minutes out there in the ocean. The night before I had been pulled into safety no matter how much I paddled away. I never feared that I would be outside of my dad’s reach because I knew the waves would push me back. What I didn’t know was that overnight the tides change. What had pushed me toward my father before was not pulling me further and further from safety.
This has become an analogy for me the past few months when I think and battle with anxieties. There’s an Elisabeth Elliot quote I love, “Anxieties disperse in the knowledge of His constancy.” Fear pushes us away from God but faith draws us near. Even when we are faithless, He is faithful. When we tether our fears and anxiety to truth, our thoughts can be “fixed” to anchor that’s unshakeable by changing tides. Fear pushes us away from God, while faith draws us near like a tide pulling me into the safety of the shore and of a father waiting for me.
Anxieties disperse in the knowledge of His constancy. -Elisabeth Elliot
I want to be more full of faith than full of fear. To ask God everyday for more and more of Him. To seek His character in His word and to see His goodness in every aspect of my day. I’ve started an exercise to help fix my thoughts to what’s constant. I take a worry and write it down.
The first step is the “what if” question.
“What if I can’t pay rent?”
“What if I can’t make a good grade?”
“What if I fail to impress my instructors/boss/fill in the blank?”
Once you’ve named your fear, you say, “then I.”
“Then I will feel like a failure.”
“Then I will have to ask someone to help me and that will be embarrassing.”
Or whatever it is that you will feel or what may happen as a consequence.
Finally you tell yourself, “but God.”
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
I remind myself that God is still writing my story. He reigns over every desire and affection of my heart. He knows what my deepest longings are and he sees my deepest needs. He knows the weakest parts of me and where I feel the most vulnerable. But He is in control and best of all? He is faithful. And He is trustworthy to give rest to your soul.