TaketheFirst Step
My friend and I stood in the hallway of my new
home exchanging decorating ideas. When I
commented on how much I loved the wallpaper
in my hall bath, there was an awkward pause.
"But Jennifer . how do you know you love the wallpaper
if you can't see it?"
It was a fair question.
I told her that my mother had described the Jacobean
print to me in vivid detail, and that with every word I heard,
I fell more in love with it. In my mind's eye I could see the
honey mustard, cranberry, and forest green colors twining
through the vines and leaves on the wallpaper.
It's funny: Even though I couldn't see, I could see it.
That's how I like to explain faith sometimes. The dictionary
says that faith is a firm belief in something for which
there is no proof-a belief that does not have to rest on visible
evidence. Just because my eyes can't see the design of
the wallpaper doesn't mean it's not there. I know it's there,
so my eyes don't have to confirm what I know is real. In
fact, it's so real that even though I can't see it, I can still
enjoy and delight in it.
I think that's what the writer of Hebrews had in mind
when he wrote, "Faith is the substance of things hoped for,
the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1, NKJV). If we
understand that this is what faith is, we can exercise it in the
confidence the apostle Paul talked about when he said, "We
walk faith, not sight" (2 Corinthians 5:7, NASB).
Walking faith is acting upon a reality not yet seen.
Relying on sight in our faith walk never allows us to
accomplish God's best. What's more, it never reveals the hidden
treasures that only the eyes of faith can see. But most of
us never learn to walk faith . until we learn to walk in
the dark. We don't lean on God until fear makes us feel
shaky and weak.
Shaky Steps
On a warm summer afternoon in 1982, my mother and I
sat down on the soft grass under the silk oak tree in our
front yard for our final heart-to-heart talk of the summer. It
was August 14, and the next day I would leave my home in
Miami for Palm Beach Atlantic College.
In the three months since I'd graduated from high
school, we'd spent every day preparing me to go. Mom and I
had shopped for a new wardrobe for me and bought furnishings
for my dorm room, including a much-coveted rainbow
comforter.
During that long, lingering summer, I'd also spent several
weeks in "mobility training"-that is, learning to walk with
a cane. The Lighthouse for the Blind assigned me an
instructor named Mike, who diligently taught me how to
use my new cane so that I would be as self-sufficient as possible
in my new setting. Mike taught me all the techniques
I'd need to know as I learned to walk in the dark.
By mid-August the U-Haul was loaded, my suitcases
were packed, and I knew how to walk with my cane. I was
ready for college and rarin' to go. Then on August 14, my
confident expectation suddenly turned to dread. The frightening
reality of leaving home squelched all the excitement of
preparing to be an independent college student.
I was leaving behind my sense of security.
I was leaving behind the comfort of familiar surroundings.
I was leaving behind all that was well-known and safe,
trading it in for a new kind of darkness that was unfamiliar
and scary. When I began to weigh the new clothes, the new
dorm furnishings, and the new cane against the security of
my old friends and my old room, my heart froze with fear.
As my mother and I leaned against the tree that afternoon,
I suddenly cried, "I can't go to college, Mom! Who's
going to check my makeup for me? Who's going to make
sure my clothes aren't wrinkled or stained? Who's going to
tell me what food is on my plate? How will I really know if
there are no cars coming when I'm trying to cross the
street?"
My tears soon drowned out my questions. "Please don't
make me go, Mom," I begged.
My mother gently consoled me. Then she said, "You have
to go to college, honey. We've prepared you to go, you've
chosen to go, and deep down you want to go to college.
But .," she continued, wiping away her own tears, "you
only have to go for two weeks. If you really can't handle it,
your dad and I will come get you. And you can even keep
your new rainbow comforter!"
So when the sun rose on August 15, Dad got behind the
wheel of the U-Haul, Mom and I loaded my suitcases and
our heavy hearts into our Ford Fairmont, and we drove
north to West Palm Beach. After we arrived and unloaded,
we hugged good-e, and they got back in the car and
headed south.
Now I was alone with my fear, and suddenly I felt
blinder than ever. It was the emptiest feeling I'd ever had.
Walking in the dark was scary enough, but walking alone in
the dark was terrifying.
But I believe that where there is fear, there is fight! My
terror fueled my tenacity, and for two weeks I held on
doggedly. I was determined to make it until I could legitimately
call home and say, "I'm sorry. I tried. It's not working.
Please come get me!"
During that time, I used my cane to navigate the campus
just the way Mike had taught me, and it helped me feel a little
less scared. Then one day I tapped my cane into the cafeteria,
and there I found an unexpected treasure.
It was a guy.
Not just any guy, mind you. This guy was the handsomest
and most charming and intelligent guy I'd ever
stumbled upon. His name was Philip Rothschild, and we
quickly began to spend time together. Let's just say that I
barely noticed when the two weeks had passed. But I did
call my mom just to say, "Please don't ever make me come
home from college!"
Here's the lesson I learned: Unless we trade our fear for
fight, we may never find the treasures that are hidden in the
dark.
I found my future husband when I chose to risk walking
in the dark. It's the same with our spiritual walk. It's often
scary. Most of the time, God doesn't reveal what's next-and
we can't begin to anticipate what the future holds. But most
of us never learn to walk faith until we first walk in the
dark.
As a loving Father, God says, "You must take a step. I've
prepared you to go, and deep down you want to walk
faith." When we do step out, like the heroes of the faith in
Hebrews 11, we'll find the treasures that God has reserved
for those who lean completely on Him.
A Steady Pace
I believe that one of the ways God wants us to learn to walk
faith is following the examples set for us in the Bible.
In fact, Paul writes, "Brethren, join in following my example,
and observe those who walk according to the pattern you
have in us" (Philippians 3:17, NASB). We need to observe
those who walk well and follow in their footsteps.
All the amazing folks in the Hall of Faith in Hebrews 11
knew how to exercise "spiritual mobility"-they knew how
to walk faith, not sight.
And all of them learned how walking in the dark.
They didn't understand God's plan when they began to
carry it out, and they didn't know what was coming next
when they took that first step. Their faith became realized
only as they exercised it-as they began to put one foot in
front of the other. They chose to rely on something greater
than what they could see or understand.
They chose to walk faith.
And they can teach us how to walk with them on that
path.
Noah teaches us how to go against common sense when
we sense God in an uncommon way. Imagine if he had
relied on sight rather than faith. Instead of building an ark,
he might have opened a petting zoo!
Abraham teaches us how to willingly obey even when we
don't understand. If he had been relying on sight as he
trudged up Mount Moriah, he might have been scanning
the bushes for a lamb instead of obeying God.
Sarah teaches us that it's possible to believe the impossible.
Surely it was not "sight" that prompted her to knit tiny blue
ba blankets at her age!
Moses teaches us how to value God's reward more than
man's riches. If he had been walking sight, he probably
would have milked his position as Pharaoh's grandson for all
its royal worth.
You get the idea. It was faith that prompted Noah,
Abraham, Sarah, Moses, and the other heroes of Hebrews
11 to step out the way they did. Faith always propels us to
action.
But walking faith isn't always easy. I'm sure that each
one of those Hebrews 11 heroes went through some
wrenching internal agony along that walk of faith.
Noah experienced it, pounding one more nail into a ship
in the middle of the desert. Sarah felt it with a ba's tiny
kick in her once sterile womb. Abraham knew it when he
lifted that gleaming blade heavenward, ready to plunge it
into the chest of his beloved son. (Who can imagine the
agony and terror of that moment?)
And let's not forget Moses. He felt so out of his league that
he begged God to send his brother Aaron to plead with
Pharaoh. I can just hear him: "God, I stutter like M-M-Mel
Tillis, but Aaron-he sings like M-M-Mel Tormé!" All of us
feel the ground shaking beneath us when we step out in faith.
But even if we feel insecure, walking faith requires us to
take a risk. To take a step.
A Confident Stride
When I was learning to walk in the dark, what made it
easier to risk walking with a cane was knowing that Mike
was right next to me. If I felt wobbly, I knew I could hold
on to him. If I reached out or cried out, he was right there.
On our walks, he would quickly extend his arm when I'd
lose my footing or become disoriented.
In the same way, when we feel shaky in our faith walk,
we can hold on to God. Leviticus 26:12 reminds us that
God Himself walks among us because we are His people.
His strong arm is always there to help us. We can reach out
for Him in the dark, and He will be there every time. And
just as Mike patiently listened to me when I told him my
fears, God will patiently listen to ours.
Learning to walk faith is very much like learning to
walk in the dark. The mobility techniques Mike taught me
gave me security in my stride, and they're the very ones we
need to apply to walk faith. Check out the following tips
for spiritual mobility and ask God to show you if you need a
little instruction from Him in your faith walk.
Remain centered
As I learned to maneuver with my cane, Mike stressed the
importance of remaining centered. He showed me how to
hold my cane in the center of my body. Then with a steady
arm, I would move my wrist from left to right. I did this in
order to walk in a straight line and stay oriented. It allowed
me to tap the sidewalk with the tip of my cane just before
my next step, helping me anticipate any changes in my path.
It's also essential to remain centered as we learn to walk
faith. Losing your center will lead you astray. "Let your eyes
look directly ahead and let your gaze be fixed straight in front
of you," Solomon advises. "Watch the path of your feet and
all your ways will be established. Do not turn to the right nor
to the left; turn your foot from evil" (Proverbs 4:25-27,
NASB). Being centered keeps you on your intended path.
When we stay on God's path and allow Him to be the
center of our lives, we won't get disoriented when life falls
under a deep shadow. When every step is steady, we won't
slip, even when the ground buckles beneath us. "My steps
have held fast to your paths," says the psalmist. "My feet
have not slipped"(Psalm 17:5, NASB).
What is the center of your life? Have you lost your orientation?
Follow a mental map
I also learned that it was essential to know exactly where I
was going. No aimless strolling when you are blind! Mike
told me to think through my path before I took the first step
and to always have a map locked in my mind. Knowing
where I was going made every step purposeful and prevented
missteps and mishaps. The map for a Christian is
God's Word, and when "the law of his God is in his heart[,]
his steps do not slip" (Psalm 37:31, NASB).
When we know God's precepts, they guide us. "The
steps of a good man are ordered the Lord" (Psalm 37:23,
NKJV). But they also protect us. Paul says that the sword of
the Spirit is the Word of God, a part of the armor of light
that protects us against the dark powers of the world (see
Ephesians 6:12, 17 and Romans 13:12). This world is a
dark and shadowed place at times. If we naively step out
unprotected, we'll be susceptible to the evil influences of the
darkness around us. But if we wisely follow the map God
has given us in His Word (no aimless wandering!), it will
guide and protect us, making each step of our walk intentional.
Then we can say with Paul, "I run straight to the goal
with purpose in every step" (1 Corinthians 9:26, NLT).
What guides your steps? Do you follow the Master's map?
Listen to the Teacher
As I learned to use my cane, I felt my senses awakening in a
whole new dimension. I became aware of the smell of diesel
fuel from the buses that roared down the main street of my
neighborhood. And as Mike encouraged me to tune in to
the music of the motor, I learned to hear the difference
between the sound of an engine when a car was in full
motion and when it was idling at a red light. Learning to
recognize what was coming (and how fast) helped me know
when it was safe to go-or when I'd better stop and wait.
To walk faith, we need to tune in to the voice of our
Teacher. Isaiah 53:6 reminds us that we are all like sheep
who have gone astray. And like sheep, we need a shepherd.
But in order to hear the voice of our Shepherd above the din
of all the other voices in our lives, we must be tuned in. We
must learn to recognize His still, small voice.
Jesus said, "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them,
and they follow me" (John 10:27). His sheep hear and follow
Him because they are familiar with His voice. When we
learn to discern the Holy Spirit's voice, we'll know when to
go and when to stop.
As the prophet Isaiah wrote:
Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity
and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden
no more; with your own eyes you will see them.
Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears
will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." (Isaiah 30:20-21)
Are you tuned in to the voice of the Master? Do you recognize
His voice as it resonates through your soul?
Jesus said, "God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship
in spirit and in truth" (John 4:24). Walking faith means
that we allow the Holy Spirit to illuminate our eyes so that
we can see beyond the here and now. Eyes of faith see every
problem as solvable because they see every problem as spiritual
in nature. What is merely physical is confined the
laws of nature, but what is spiritual has no confines except
those our supernatural, sovereign God chooses.
This means that as we walk faith, the Holy Spirit will
help us fix our eyes on the source of our help, not on the
sting of our problems. He will whisper in our ears the gentle
reminder that "now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face
to face" (1 Corinthians 13:12, NASB). Someday the faith
which we walk will become sight, or as St. Augustine put it,
the reward of our faith will be to see what we believe. Can
you see how important it is to walk faith? Look where it
will eventually lead us-face to face with God Himself!
"I am the light of the world.
Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness,
but will have the light of life."
John 8:12
Never Alone
Never alone
In my darkest hour I am never alone
Not far from home and I can feel You near me
For I am never alone
In the midst of trials there is a triumph that I know
While trusting in the One who never changes
And though my heart grows weary in the struggle of it all
I have such assurance that You hear me when I call
Never alone
In my darkest hour I am never alone
Not far from home and I can feel You near me
For I am never alone(Continues.)
