After a long day of rowing around the lake, I began
pulling the little row boat back towards shore.
Dorian, my daughter was in the bow, Jan my wife in the aft, and me, I was plumb in the
middle, the thorn between two roses, trying to be as macho as can be. Not
complaining that my arms already were tired from going around this five-mile in
circumference lake a lap or two already. Not telling anybody that I really regretted
that little boat did not have a motor. Just not saying a word, stoically pulling
against the oars, watching the water glide past, but the shore appearing as far away as
ever.
Slowly, the people on the shore began to get bigger. I started getting excited. I
could see the dock in my range. I just had to steer the row boat to it and with a
few more strong pulls, and a little course correction, I finally pulled alongside
the dock.
What a feeling of relief to reach my hand out and feel the warm weathered wood of the dock
and know I was just moments away from exiting what had become an day-long exercise
machine, to solid land.
I slowly unfolded my long legs, and felt the cramping of the hours of sitting seep
away from me.
Then I placed a leg on dock as I steadied the other leg in the row boat.
Mistake! The foot on the dock held steady. The foot on the boat,
however, started heading back out into the lake from whence we just came.
I suddenly was being forced to perform at athletic split, that some ballerinas would be
hard pressed to match. Even today as I tell the story, my voice rises an octave.
Dorian was laughing so hard tears were coming down her cheeks. Her Daddy was doing
something that looked like a scene from a bad comedy movie. Her Mommy was not much
more restrained in her merriment. Her Daddy, me, all I could see in my immediate
future was a big splash in the lake and a career as a boy soprano. I had tried to straddle
two masters, land and sea.
I was saved by the bell. The attendents at the docks saw my precarious predicament
and before I fell into the lake, they grabbed the boat's tether rope and drew the boat
close enough to the dock that my splits ended and I was able to get both feet on dry land.
This quickly taught me a painful lesson...you can not serve two masters.
As Christians, we often are poised as precariously as I was that day. With one foot
on the Jesus Christ, the solid rock and the other on sinking sand of the world.
You can not make it through life so divided. So torn between two incompatible positions.
Although when exiting the boat, I felt planted on one side, it was not enough to keep the
other leg from sliding away from me.
And as the leg slid further and further away from its mate, it threatened to pull the leg
that was on solid ground off of solid ground.
When we try to serve God and the world, we too are pulled the same way. The world
makes us do a spiritual split. It is just as excruciatingly painful as my physical
split was. But more importantly, it will try to pull us off the foothold we have
with the Lord.
I never felt more secure in my life than when I got both feet back on the dock, on solid
ground.
As Christians, you will never feel any more secure, loved, safe, grounded, then if you
have both feet firmly planted on the solid rock of Jesus Christ.
Christ, the solid rock will be your anchor through the storms of life, the solid
foundation upon which you can build your spiritual structure.
It was a quick witted attendent, grabbing a boat's rope that saved me an embarassing fall
into the lake, and further pain from being torn in two directions.
It is a merciful Jesus, who by His Grace, and His blood shed at the cross, Who is poised
to save you today from a straddling position. To keep you from being torn between
His salvation and the sin of the world.
That day, in the boat, I was slipping and sliding. Today, I echo the classic hymn,
"On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand."
I hope you are not split today as you read this. Stand on the solid rock, Jesus Christ
