Just Throw Yourself In

I watch the baby red eared sliders launch themselves off the logs as I approach the water. These turtles are named sliders for this very reason: they slide--quick as lightning--into the water. 

Watching them, I see all the verbs in my mind: they fling, abandon, careen, pop, and even twirl off the log. They parachute, trust-fall, tumble, and fly.

However you say it, it's so passionate how they fall. 

I think that's how it's done with God. You pull in your claws, detach, and desperately splash down into the Living Water. You free-fall any which way you can. It doesn't matter how you reach the water, just that you do--and fast. 

Receive All the Good

The Italian Mama tells me how easily people accept disappointing things in their lives and how terribly they accept good things. Why do we do this? We doubt and question and fear the good things. Instead of questioning and being suspicious of great things happening, we should simply receive and embrace the great thing, thriving and flourishing as we do. 

Watch Me, Don't Watch Me

My youngest daughter wants me to ride in the boat while she attempts her stunts on the kneeboard. 

"Will you watch me, Mom?"

"Yes!" I say. "I cannot wait to watch you!"

"But don't watch me," she says carefully. "It's too much pressure." She pauses. "But can you watch me? I mean watch me, but don't watch me."

I nod in understanding. 

I will watch her with all my delight, celebration, encouragement, and cherishing. But I will not watch with pressure, criticism, judgment, or anger.

I will watch and not watch her. 

As she giggles and says "watch me but don't watch me," I know that's how God sees us both. All anger and judgment were poured out and absorbed by Christ, so God--who carefully observes, carefully watches--sees us through the lens of cherishing and delighting. 

He watches me, but He doesn't watch me. Children know exactly what this means.