more questions than answers

Skydiving and Walking on Water (Part 2)

D

o you know the difference between a negative skydiving experience and a positive one?

No, the answer isn’t whether or not you go splat.

Going splat is not the definition of a negative experience.  That’s a terminal one.

I’m convinced that the difference between a positive skydiving experience and a negative one is dependent on with whom you jump.

Newfie, is the quintessential jumpmaster.

I remember his first words to me after we met:  “Are you ready to have fun?”

As we were getting our gear on, he was talking about what a great time I was going to have.

When I said I was a bit nervous, He said:  No worries Ron, we’re going to have fun.

As I was strapping on my altimeter, he was saying:  You won’t believe how much fun this is going to be.

He talked about how he had jumped on 5 different continents.

                                    Made 3,600 jumps.

Never been involved in an accident.  (A very important detail to my thinking.)

So between his expertise, experience, and contagious attitude, I found myself getting excited about the jump.

We get in the plane.  Make a steep ascent.

            The pilot tells us we’re going to be going for a bit more altitude today.

                        We’re jumping at 14,500 feet.

At about 13,000 feet I look out the window.

            There’s a really good reason why you aren’t supposed to look down.

All of the sudden my excitement turns to fear.  I hurdled right over doubt and landed at terror.

“I can’t do this.  This is crazy.  I’m going down like I came up: sitting right here in this plane.  This may be the most expensive plane ride of my life, but I can’t do it.”

I leaned back to say to Newfie, I’ve changed my mind.

Before I can say anything, Newfie says:  “Ron, trust me, this is going to be fun.”

C

ourage is a funny thing.  When your young you think courage is the absence of fear.  You think that being fearless is the same as being courageous.

But as you get older you learn that courage isn’t the absence of fear.  Courage is in the words of John Wayne:  “Being afraid and saddling up anyway.”

Peter showed an amazing amount of courage that night in the boat.

He and the boys had been beaten up all night by the sea.

            He’s scared half out of his gourd because he thinks he sees a ghost.

Then he hears his friend’s voice.

While the waves and the wind are tossing the boat all over the place, he asks to come to Jesus on the water.

He wants to be where Jesus is.

Peter does it.  He climbs down out of the boat.

He’s walking on the water.

He’s doing it.

He’s really doing it.  He is the second man in all of history to walk on the water.

But then it happens:

‘Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!"’ (Matthew 14:29B & 30, NIV)

Pete did what I did.

I looked out the window.

            Pete looked at the wind and waves.

I thought about falling like a rock.

            He thought about sinking like one.

And Jesus said:

‘Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"’ (Matthew 14:31, NIV)

Why did you doubt?

The answer is a simple one I suppose:  Because he stopped looking at Jesus.

I don’t know about you, but there’s been more than a couple of times that I’ve taken my eyes off Jesus and sunk like a rock.  Doubt tends to work quickly like that.

I

’d like for you to read some words that I wrote and spoke to my bride, Barbara, 18 years ago this past summer.

‘I Ron, choose you Barbara, over any woman I have ever met or will ever meet, to be my wife. I offer myself completely to you to be your husband. I dedicate our marriage and our home to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. I promise to love you with all that I am and to be patient, gentle, and unselfish towards you.

I promise to stand by you always, and to encourage you to seek the will of Christ in all that you do. I make this vow to you in the presence of my Lord and my God, whom I love, honor, and fear.’ (June 24, 1989)

These are my vows.  I’ve kept them in my study Bible.  I take them out from time to time to read them.

They aren’t just warm sentiment or words spoken in a romantic moment.  They are a depiction of who I want to be for her, who I want to be with her.

And in 18 years I have to tell you, I’m not there yet.  I’ve caught glimpses of me becoming this guy, but I’m not there yet.

I have words that I wrote when my children were born.  Words about the kind of father I want to be to them, the kind of protector, provider, mentor.  And some days I get a glimpse of who I want to be, but nothing consistent.

The same is true of the kind of friend I want to be, the kind of teacher, the kind of man.

The problem is that I have these dark places in me that keep me from becoming who I want to be:  selfishness, selfish ambition, pride, greed, anger, hurt . . . sin.

Some days being a good man, a good husband, a good father feels about as tough as walking on the water.  Some days it feels like walking on the water would be easier.

Most every week my family and I come together with other followers of Christ and worship God.  And I have to tell you it helps me.  Every week when I focus my attention with others on God, when we sing songs of thanks and adoration together, when we pray, when someone speaks to us from the Bible, it helps me.  I don’t do it to get in good with God or make a partial payment on my fare for my ticket to heaven or any of that nonsense. I gather with others to worship God because it helps me. It gives me more to work with.  I gain insight, perspective, and encouragement.  I’m challenged, corrected, even instructed.

Do you know what worship is like for me?

It’s like looking at Jesus while walking on the water.

But once a week isn’t enough for me.

My battles for who I want to become, the man I want to be, are everyday battles.

I try imagining what it would have been like for me to have met up with Newfie on Sunday and heard his pep talk.  And then us not jump until the following Saturday.

I don’t think it would have happened.  In fact, I know it wouldn’t have happened.

But because I had his voice in my ear, because he was right there with me, I was able to jump.

Each morning, I have to have Christ’s voice in my ear before I get out of the boat.

Each morning I have to set aside time to express love, and thanks and honor to God. 

Each morning I have to focus my attention on God before I get started with my day.  Letting Him speak to me through the parts of the Bible I read, the verses I memorize, the songs that I sing to Him.

That time of worship gives me perspective and courage.  It prepares me for the challenges and the adventures of the day.  And every time I spend time with God I become hopeful that I am becoming the man I want to be.

I have to get a glimpse of God if I have any hope of walking on the water, becoming the man I was always meant to be.

W

e got to the hatch of the plane.  I was on my knees.  Newfie was behind me.

He said:  “I’m not going to push you.  We’ll go on your lead.”  He counted: “1 . . . 2 . . .” and I went.

We somersaulted twice.  It was the strangest thing seeing the underneath side of the plane. We came even.

And it was amazing.   It was like the whole world opened up before me.

It was beyond words.  It was a spiritual experience.

It was like . . . freedom.

We went 9,500 feet in just under 50 seconds.  Almost a full minute in freefall. Simply amazing.

Pulled the rip cord at 5,000 feet.  We were safely under canopy at 4,500 feet.

It was so quiet.  There was no noise anywhere.

Newfie taught me a song.  (Sang to the tune of ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’.)  Somewhere over the drop-zone, way up high.  Ron’s jumped from a perfectly good airplane and now I think he understands why.

At 2,000 feet the plane landed on the airfield beneath us.  Newfie said:  See Ron, it really was a perfectly good airplane.

I jumped again 9 months later.  Punched a cloud at 12,000 feet.  Came out the bottom at 6,000 feet.  Breath-taking.

I jumped that time to prove to myself that first time wasn’t a fluke.

Skydiving is a risky undertaking I suppose, even dangerous.  I wouldn’t recommend it unless it’s something you really want to do.

Following Christ is a risky undertaking, dangerous even.  I would highly recommend it.  But I wouldn’t recommend only listening for His voice in your ear once a week in a crowd.

Thanks for reading.

Peace.

Skydiving and Walking on Water

It was something I had wanted to do for as long as I could remember. And I had wondered: If given the opportunity would I have the pluck? Could I do it? Or Would I bow out gracefully?

It was one of those deals that I’d think about for a while and then I’d put on the back burner. I’d dismiss it as foolishness or immaturity or testosterone overload.

Time would go by and then it would hit me again.

About 8 years ago, I found myself thinking about it in earnest. And I decided: “Dog gone it, I’m not getting any younger. I’m going to do it.”
So in 1999, in honor of my 35^th birthday, I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.

Now, you need to know that from the beginning I had my doubts.

The night before I was scheduled to jump I spent some time talking with God.

Was I being foolish?

Was this some sort of mid-life crisis?

Was I trying to regain my youth?

I knew in my heart that there were several reasons for me to jump and God had given me a green-light.  (Contrary to popular belief, God isn’t the Pleasure Police. He does give us permission to have fun and enjoy our lives.)

My bride and children were out of town.  So it was me and a fellow staff member who decided to jump.  About 7 or 8 people went to cheer us on, or pick up the pieces, or something.

I woke up that morning with some misgivings, nothing major, just a few doubts gnawing at me. But overall, I was cool about the deal.

That is of course, until we got to the airfield.

The airfield looked like something out of ‘Green Acres’. (For those under 30: read as old and rundown.) The whole complex wasn’t much bigger than a very small farm. I was hoping for something a little bigger. Something paved. Something that looked like it had electricity and running water.

Ever notice how your doubts have voices of their own?

(My doubts woke up.)

“This is not good.”

“Turn the car around.”

“Go home.”

“Go read your Bible. Do something spiritual would you?”

“It’ll be fine” I told myself. “I’m cool.” “It’s all good.” “People do this all the time.” (I don’t think Myself was listening.)

So we park and go inside.

The first thing they have us do is watch this instructional video.

I said to the guy: Pardon me, but I thought somebody would take us through the process step by step.

Guy: No worries. It’s all on the video.

(This is not good.)

So we watched the video very closely.

Then dudester comes back and says: Before we go we need you to sign a few forms.

We sit down and begin signing these forms. There are about 12 of them and they all basically say the same thing. My estate will not hold the jump school liable if I become a stain on the airfield.

Inside I’m hearing: “Run Forrest, Run.”

We go outside and over to the hangar to gear up.

In come the jumpmasters. These are the folks we will be jumping with, because they don’t let you jump on your own the first time out unless you do Advance Free Fall training which costs a lot more and takes a lot longer.

So this short, gray-haired, hippy-looking, entirely-too-happy fellow walks over and introduces himself to me.

“Hi Ron, I’m Newfie. I’ll be jumping with you today.”

I think: Newfie? Newfie? Great. What kind of name is Newfie? Is he living under an alias? Newfie. What is that like Twiggy?
All of the sudden I had a vision:
        Here lies the body of Ron Willoughby.
        He died while jumping out of a perfectly good airplane with Newfie.
Know what I find fascinating?
I find fascinating: The speed with which doubt gives way to fear. Ever notice how the act of doubting lends itself to being afraid?
And how fear and doubt together can keep you from doing what you’ve always wanted to do.

Or, if they don’t stop you, fear and doubt will, at the very least, sour the experience while it’s happening.

So instead of enjoying the thing you’ve waited a long time to do, you get to the point where you just want to get it over with

A couple thousand years ago, there lived a man named Peter. Peter was a follower of Jesus. And Jesus is the Son of God.

Peter was having an incredible day following Christ.

In fact, he and the other disciples must have thought that this specific day was the day that never ends. It was that packed with challenges, successes, and failures. It was one, long roller-coaster of emotions.

The day started off with Jesus learning that His cousin John the Baptist had been beheaded.

So, Jesus takes the boys so they can be alone. I suspect so He could have some time to grieve the loss of His cousin. So they all get in a boat to cross the Sea of Galilee. But by the time they get to the other side of the Sea a crowd is already waiting for Jesus.

And it’s a big crowd. Better than 5,000 people are there waiting for Jesus.

Jesus has compassion on them.

He heals their sick and infirmed. He cares for those who have been over-looked by society.

He teaches them about God’s kingdom, which is very different from the kingdom in which they currently live.

He teaches them about love, hope, life and most importantly, life with God.

The crowd stays there with Jesus and the disciples the entire day. Not wanting to send them away hungry, Jesus takes 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish. He gives thanks. And begins breaking up the fish and bread until all in the crowd has eaten and had their fill.

By now it’s late in the evening, so Jesus has the boys get into the boat and head back to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, while He stays and dismisses the crowd.  After the crowd leaves, Jesus goes up on a hillside to be alone and to pray.

Well, the boys get about halfway across the Sea of Galilee, when this squall kicks up out of nowhere.

Try as they might they can’t row their way out of this storm.

They fight against the storm for hours.

They fight against the wind until the wee hours of the morning, but no luck.

They’re fatigued.

They’re scared.

They’re disheartened.

And you won’t believe what happens next.

In the midst of the storm, the high winds, and the relentless waves,

Jesus comes walking out on the water to them.  (Yes, you heard me, Jesus was walking on the water.)

Here they are in the fight of their lives, quite literally, and they see this figure: maybe a man, maybe a ghost, strolling on the water.

Of course, no one has ever heard of a man walking on water, so they’re pretty certain that on top of all their other problems, there’s a ghost coming to visit. They cry out in fear.

Jesus: “Take courage. It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

Now, it’s about this time that I suspect everyone in the boat gets a brain cramp. Their heads are spinning.  Don't get me wrong, they have to be relieved that they hear a familiar voice, but at the same time, who ever heard of someone walking on water?

And then it happens: One of Peter’s finest moments.

Peter shouts over the din of the storm:  Lord, if it is you, tell me to come to you on the water.  (I think I would have said:  Lord if it's you, get in the boat.)

Can you believe it?  Peter wants to walk on water with Jesus in the middle of a squall.

 Has to be one of the gutsiest things I have ever heard of.

“Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.”

 

To be continued. . .