shawnbarnard.com

There are a lot of things in this world that I just don’t get. For instance, dumb warning labels. Have you ever read any of these? A warning label on a chainsaw reads, “Do not attempt to stop chain with hands.” You think? Or how about this hair dryer label for all of you who are multi-taskers, “Do not use in the shower.” I’ll remember that one.

But, there is one more thing I don’t get: treadmills. If I’m going to exert that much energy, I want to get somewhere. Nonetheless, I must confess that, not only do I use one, but have learned an important life lesson from doing so.

Have you ever felt like your life is a lot like running on a treadmill? There is a lot of energy being exerted, but you’re going nowhere. Ever feel that way? Perhaps a snapshot of your life looks like this: You wake up, get ready for the day ahead, feed the kids, go to work, come home, clean the house, cook dinner, pay bills, watch T.V., go to bed, and then it begins all over again in the morning. And that’s your life. It’s what you do, and you go through the motions . . . and exist.

But isn’t there more to life than just existing? There is more to life. This longing inside to really live, and not just exist, is in every person. The question is how do you get there? I believe that you and I were created for the purpose of living, not existing. And because I believe that God is the Creator, living can’t happen apart from knowing God through His Son, Jesus. The Bible affirms that truth: “ Whoever has the Son (Jesus), has life; whoever rejects the Son, rejects life.” (1 John 5:12)

It just makes sense. Knowing your purpose leads to living with purpose. You weren’t meant to just exist; you were created by the Life-giver to really live. So, here’s to living life to the fullest and getting off the treadmill.

The other day, in my devotional time, I read this verse: “Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs.” Jonah 2:8

As I began meditating on that verse, the very first thing that came to mind (deep spiritual stuff), was that Jonah was a Cling-on. Before Star Trek, Captain Kirk, the guy with the elf ears—what was his name? Dr. Speck . . . Spunk . . . something like that—there was Jonah, the Cling-on. In the midst of his all-expense paid, limo ride in the big fish that every fisherman would love to have mounted on the wall, Jonah came to realize that he was clinging on to stuff that was causing him to miss God’s best. He was a cling-on. And you and I are no different. Star Trek fan or not (and just for the record, I’m not), we cling to stuff that plunges us to the depths of heartache, discouragement, and emptiness, keeping us from experiencing the freedom that is found living in God’s grace.

When I was younger, my family and I, along with some friends of ours who had a boat, went to a local lake to do some water skiing. It just so happened that I had never water skied before—that would soon change. After those who had skied until their hearts were content and their fingers were prune-like, my dad said, “Ok Shawn, you’re up.” I’m up? What does he mean, “I’m up”? Was it like, your time on earth is up now that you’re about to attempt water skiing? Nonetheless, I wasn’t going to let dying keep me from water skiing, so I jumped in the lake with my life jacket securely fastened, my swimsuit tightly tied (that’s important), and my heart racing like a rabbit being chased by Elmer Fudd.

All the instructions were given to me: keep your ski tips up; bend your knees; let the boat pull you up; say your prayers. You know, stuff like that. But no one, not one person, told me the all important thing: DON’T FORGET TO LET GO OF THE ROPE WHEN YOU FALL. Note to all you “ski instructors,” that’s an important rule.

My knees were shaking, my ski tips were up, and my swimsuit was tied so tightly it nearly cut off my circulation. I figured if I went down, at least my swimsuit wouldn’t. The roar of the boat engine suddenly broke the silence on the lake; the water churned (as did my stomach); the rope tightened; my body was swerving coming up out of the water; and as soon as I broke the surface of the water, I went down. But because I didn’t know the rule, I held on to the rope.

I went like a human torpedo through the lake that day, clinging to that rope for dear life because letting go just didn’t seem like an option. I was hitting fish left and right. Turtles were watching in amazement, and laughing. Sea weed (or I guess lake weed), slapping me in the face like I was speeding through a car wash. Then something inside me urged me, begged me, threatened me, to let go. Perhaps it was my guardian angel, who wasn’t equipped with scuba gear, I don’t know. Nonetheless, I let go. And when I did, I was free. Free to breath again. Free to get in the boat. Free from an unpleasant underwater adventure.

Maybe you’re clinging to something that is taking you down into the depths of disobedience. You don’t have to hang on to the stuff that drags you down. God is urging you to let go, and trust Him with your life. And when you do trust Him, there is much grace offered to you. But the truth is, you can’t experience it when you’re clinging on to the rope of bitterness, anger, greed, lust, envy. From one soul skier who’s held the rope, to another—let go.

Maybe you’re not like me when it comes to blogging . . . a novice. I have no clue what I’m doing (I am so glad I got that off my chest). As a matter of fact, it feels like I’m diving into the oceanic blogosphere, and I’m wearing Spongebob floaties. Nonetheless, I’ve jumped in, and hope that in doing so will be able to contribute to dialogue that encourages, challenges, inspires, provokes your thoughts, and stirs your emotions.

And, if by chance, you are like me, may your floaties be full of air, and your swimsuit tied tightly . . . whatever that means. Sounds blogish, doesn’t it?