Thursday, April 1, 2010

I Choose the Roller Coaster...

Yesterday Andi and I were talking about life, kids, dreams, and the future. We do that quite regularly. While we talked she used the analogy of the life of faith we have been called to live as either a roller coaster or a merry-go-round. She contrasted the adventures of the roller coaster with its ups, downs and quick turns to the monotony of the merry-go-round. And then she said what I already knew to be true about her - "I choose the roller coaster!" What an incredible woman of faith God has blessed me with.

Faith is not easy. Why do we think that faith should come easy when it costs God so much? Why do we think that when we pray we should just automatically get an answer from Him without some hard-working, sweaty faith along the way? Why do we feel the need to help God out after we've prayed for a while, giving Him a back door exit just in case our prayers aren't answered like we've asked? Why do we feel the need to manipulate circumstances to aid God in His marvelous work? Why do we ever get the idea that living a life of faith in an unseen God, trusting Him completely and relying on Him fully is easy? We should be ashamed.

And yet, most never experience a roller coaster life of faith because they are either unwilling to persevere and believe or just simply give up and become hopeless. They saddle up on the painted pony of their choice and sit while the horse bobs up and down and the music blares in their ears. At first they grab the reins and lean forward into the ride but soon realize that little is needed to stay in the saddle because there is no adventure to be expected. They go round and round and experience a life of Christian monotony that never takes off to explore a new horizon. Many become so boring in their walk with God and then wonder why there is nothing contagious about their faith when they encounter those who need saving faith.

Well, Andi, I choose the roller coaster with you! I wouldn't want to ride it with anyone else. I want us to sit in the front seat, not the back, and I want to top the next hill with you, look down the rails and know that we may scream a little along the ride but the cars are intact, the rails are secure, the speed is not unmanageable, but the joy is unmistakable. I want to throw our arms up in the air and look up to God and laugh as we twist and turn along the route. I want us to lean into the curves together and experience the forces that propel us forward. I want us to arrive at our destination with a screeching halt and look at each other and say, "Wow! That was fun! Wanna go again?"