In the vast blue sea, there was a small sailboat, nestled inside of a plastic cup. It had just enough water to keep it afloat, and it was light enough to flow with the currents.
It was happy, despite seeing everything through a lens and not having copious amounts of space to move to and fro. But eventually it became restless, for it had no control over its direction and was at the mercy of the sea; going wherever it directed. It could also see the other sailboats moving freely among the waters, enjoying talking to each other. It desperately wanted to join them, but knew it was safe within its home.
Every night the little sailboat would watch the sunset through its plastic lens, in awe of the beauty of the world that lay just beyond its grasp.
Then one day, a storm arose, and the winds caused the plastic cup to tip over. At first the little sailboat was scared, and intimidated by the big world around it. Yet as the winds calmed down and the waves slowed to a lull, it realized it had freedom to move and to explore. It was no longer confined to its small home; it had the whole ocean to live in.
The sky came alive with colors. Pinks, oranges and reds streaked across it and the little sailboat watched in wonder, experiencing it all for the first time without the plastic to taint and dim the colors. And as it sat there, boat after boat showed up to watch the sunset-and for the first time it experienced it with them and not simply near them. And it realized all along that it was made for big things and for community, not for the small cup that was home for so long.
Often times I have found that I live like that sailboat, isolated and hidden by my fears.
There is a tendency I have to assume that the ocean-all the good things- isn’t meant for me but only for others. This leads to isolation, which I have done with my family friendships and roommates.
Yesterday at church, I realized that I often hold myself back from things because I have committed myself to staying in seasons where I feel comfortable and safe. I find it quite contradictory that my heart longs to be free and yet more often than not I am the one who chooses captivity.
Yet to live with the mindset that I don’t deserve abundance, is to say that I don’t trust Gods plans for me. To isolate myself is to keep my love and talents hidden rather than using them to lift up others.
To keep people at arms distance is choosing to not let them freely love me.
I am realizing I must let go of the fears I’ve called home, as I embrace the fullness and abundance of Gods love. To experience life fully we must let go of what is uncomfortable and embrace the uncertainty with boldness and courage, knowing God is by our side.
I want to find God in the uncertainty rather then retreating to what is familiar and safe.