Walk in the shadow of a friendly giant

How many live with regrets that, if left unresolved, will go with us to the grave? How many have longed to take the plunge in life, to live an enviable life, to rise to the moment, to be more than we are instead of remaining trapped in a vicious cycle of doubts and fears?

The moment when Israel reached the River Jordan and spied out the land ahead, to decide whether they would push on into their inheritance, reflects the choices facing us all.

They turned back thanks to the negative perceptions of ten not so spiritual, faithless spies, whose influence swayed the vote against the two tried and proven witnesses who only saw possibilities ahead. Let’s face it, for every two voices of faith in you, there will inevitably be six voices telling you to turn back, to doubt, to question or to see giants where others see milk and honey.

The giants were never real. They were merely mirages, perceptions that remained untested for another forty years. When they did return to face their fears, those perceptions crumbled and their giants were unmasked. They had been held back by shadows.

It reminds me of that series of adverts in which a kitten casts the shadow of a lion, or a boy casts the shadow of a warrior. The shadows get us down, not the reality behind the shadows.

The mind is a very powerful factor in our lives. We know from experiments with optical illusions that the mind can distort reality: to perceive what never will be, as something that is. As such, mentalists have made their money showing just how easy it is to trick the mind.

The “giants” of Canaan, must have lived most uncomfortable lives, for Jericho was a small, walled city with fifteen-foot walls. It was hardly Valhalla. They were poor, struggling giants, battling to pay the rent and under the leash of their insufferable women. Indeed, they were hardly giants at all.

It reminds me of the huge, hairy Visigoth that came to visit the Gauls in Asterix and Obelix. He was a fearsome sight, until he removed his hairy coat to reveal the thin, shivering wimp inside.  

Frankly, I think that what we call being spiritual is just a pretext for doubt and unbelief. I am oft bemused by the idea of obeying God as though God was ever that prescriptive. I may just be a spiritual vagabond, for I have rarely known God to tell me in precise detail what to do.

He guides my decisions, sure, but He never or very rarely tells me exactly what to do. His will is not written in stone. It is a nuance, a subtle nudge here and there, with more than enough capacity to deal with a bit of round tripping, pauses, diversions, touristy asides, or whatever.

The obedience we find in Romans 3 is the obedience of faith. Real obedience is believing that God is and that He has His hand on our lives, no matter how things seem. Real faith stands tall and, having done all else, only really stands until it sees God’s salvation.

He know how to order the steps of the righteous and He will do so. Looking back on your life, you will see that He was always there to guide you, but though you look for it, you will never find the parochial, paint-by-numbers, prescriptive schoolmaster that religion would have us believe in.

He is our father. He is the good shepherd. He knows we have to do life and learn by doing. He knows we must make mistakes to grow up. He does not dangle the sword of Damacles over us to punish every single stumble or crush every mistake. That is not the God of grace.

Eventually we may have to realize that one of the giants of our minds is religion and religiosity. The fear of doing the wrong thing has zip to do with faith. It does the opposite. It questions God and tests Him, whilst retreating into safe, predictable patters where we are in control, not Him.

Get out of that. Break the mold. Live. Rise up. Go forward. Face your giants. Test your assumptions about all that ever held you back. Reclaim the promises of God and be free.

Fear is religion. Faith is righteous. You cannot be held hostage to your little walled city forever. That will only breed spiritual cynicism and a fruitless life. Get out of your boat, walk across the waters, go where no one else would, face your giants and live.  

Religion over-analyses and sets a premium on preciseness, because that is their Linus blanket. Faith abandons all that, exits caves, crosses rivers and goes on not knowing where it is headed, because it leans on God and trusts Him to do what we can't. 

Live. I say again. Live. Let God rule in your life and live. Set yourself as free as the cross meant you to be free, and live. Break the mold, smash walls, get out ... and live. 

(c) Peter Missing: bethelstone@gmail.com