My comment about the poem is that there is a sense in the Christian life of being called to be vulnerable, called to let God shape us and mold us and even push us in the direction to which he is calling, and then to fly spiritually when we are pushed.
One of our members who was present at the 10:30 service that Sunday, Debbie Lewis, shared a story with me afterward about her grandson Sean, when he was at the pool one day as a little boy of about six. He had never jumped off the diving board before, but that day he decided to give it a try.
The only thing is that when he got up there, it was higher than he realized from down below and he hesitated. His grandmother was right there encouraging him, and his mother Leah and other family and friends were in the water ready to help him and even catch him as he splashed down. But he just couldn't do it. Other children were lining up behind him and Debbie told him that he would have to come off the diving board if he wasn't going to jump to allow the other kids to go. So he got down.
A few minutes later, he wanted to try again. So he got up there, but again he kind of froze and couldn't do it. Again, other children began to line up behind him, and after encouraging him for a while, Debbie finally told him he'd have to come down if he wasn't going to jump. So he leaned over to his grandmother and cupped a hand over his mouth and whispered to her, "Push me."
He was basically ready to go, to take that next step and jump into the adventure that was right there and waiting. He just needed a little push.
Come to the edge, the poem says. And we came. And he pushed us. And we flew!
Grace and Hope to you,
Pastor Duane
