Get Down

I’ve mentioned before that I’m reading John Ortberg’s book If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat. Yesterday I finished the "Seeing the Wind" chapter.

What is the wind? If you think of the story of Peter walking on the water, the wind – the storm – is what distracted him. It is what took his eyes from Jesus and was the catalyst as he began to sink. The wind is the difficulties in our lives – the challenges – the hardships. Ortberg uses the story of Joseph from the Old Testament to illustrate many of his points, and he uses it well. I think that one of the themes of the entire book of Genesis is that God can take the challenges of life, and use them for his own purposes – to love his children. Listen carefully – I did not say that God causes them – only that he is active in our lives, and doesn’t sit on his hands by when the wind comes.

What happened when the storm arose on the Sea of Galilee? What happened when Peter began to sink? "At once Jesus reached out and grabbed hold of him and said, ”What little faith you have! Why did you doubt?" (Matthew 14:31) There it is – God’s response to the wind in our lives. Jesus reached out and saved Peter, and then gave him an opportunity to learn from what had happened – an opportunity for growth.

I was struck when I read this chapter by the idea of theophany – God making himself known to us. Ortberg calls this “God passing by…” We often think of our encounters with God to be mountaintop experiences – glorious, see the wonder of God, times. We think of the transfiguration, Moses on the mountain receiving the Ten Commandments. We think of those times in our lives when we have felt the presence of God so closely that he could have been standing next to us. Like Peter, we want to build a tent, and stay put, basking in the presence of God.

But what kind of God would we have if he only made his presence known on the mountaintop? To quote Ortberg, “Sometimes God comes, not in those moments when we are most lifted up, but when we are down the lowest in the place of vulnerability and fear. Sometimes he comes, not on the mountaintop, but in the storm.” I’m thinking of Job on his ash heap, Jonah in the belly of the whale, Jacob in the desert, and even Adam and Eve OUTSIDE the garden of Eden. I’m thinking of the walk to Emmaus, when Jesus walked with two believers in what was one of the lowest points of their lives.

We have a God of the Mountaintop, but we also have a God of the Storm. While we celebrate the mountaintop glory, I imagine that we treasure the experiences with God in the valley the most. God always lifts us up, but even more so when we need it the most -- in our lowest times.

I heard this song on the way into work today – it’s called Get Down by Audio Adrenaline – selected lines:

All I needs another day
Where I can’t seem to get away
From the many things that drag me down, yeah
I’m sure you’ve had a day like me
Where nothing seems to set you free
From the burdens you can’t carry all alone
In your weakness he is stronger
In your darkness he shines through
When you’re crying he’s your comfort
When you're all alone, he’s carrying you

I get down and he lifts me up
I get down and he lifts me up
I get down and he lifts me up
I get down

This valley is so deep
I can barely see the sun
I cry out for mercy, lord
You lift me up again

My arms are too short -- a good, and somewhat related post (title is a hyperlink).

Images: Views from the VA hill this morning.