Courage to Get Up (part 1)

I'm writing this on the tail end of my lunch break. So I apologize ahead of time of any of it is rushed or jumbled; I'll try to make it as coherent as I can. But I wanted to post a quick update on VBS week thus far.

EDIT: I'm going to make this a two-part post. This one will be more on the retrospective, philosophical side (or something of that nature), and the one after that will delve into the actual details of the week.

Anyway, the theme for Arctic Edge is courage. Courage to follow Jesus. Courage to trust Him no matter what, no matter where, no matter when (an actual lyric in one of the songs). But it gets me thinking.

Where does the courage come from?

Humanity is a strange beast sometimes. You know when you feel like you've got things all together, plans have been formulated, and you are ready for anything that could happen? And then boom. The next day knocks you flat on your back. You and I are strange that way.

I've felt ready for Vacation Bible School since late February. That is insane; anyone will tell you that, and I will gladly plead guilty to it. Yet even while I put together my music station, memorized the songs, the lyrics, and the movements, and studied over each day, I had this nagging feeling. I didn't know what it was, even if it was bad or good. And then Monday comes. Suddenly the feeling becomes clear as a bell. The not-so-ready jitters. The overwhelming sense of "Oh-no-what-if-I-fail" syndrome. It lurked last week and then came full blown Monday.

It's funny. I'm no longer surprised when I experience feelings like this. Truth be told, they serve a good purpose. They remind me who's really in charge. I can map out every minute of every day in my music class, have songs timed to the second, and not flub one motion all week. But none of that is enough to unseat God. His throne sits supremely higher; it's kind of like comparing a fisherman's shed to the Sears Tower. I feel blessed to stand in His shadow. God is always running things even - no, I take that back - especially when we don't realize it. He never stops, takes a breather, or says "Okay David, you take the wheel for a while." Believe me when I say we would have crashed a hundred times over by now. Listen to Carrie Underwood sometime. She's onto something.

Nobody likes to get jitters. I certainly don't. Especially not the kind that almost make you sick to your stomach (which is not what you want to be feeling with songs that involve jumping up and down). But with retrospect, it's good medicine. It reminds us of our humanity, our humanness. Suddenly, we're not so on top of things, or as invincible as we thought. All we can do is cry out to God to help us. All we can do is exit the fisherman's shed, no longer the castle we believe it to be sometimes, and kneel before the tower of the Almighty. And like a radiant dove from on high, His hand descends. Not to hurt or chastise but to heal. To comfort. To grant wings of eagles.

That is where true courage comes from.

Watch The Wizard of Oz sometime. There's a great deal of inspiration to be gained from the Cowardly Lion. As is the case with the Scarecrow and the Tin Man, he spends the movie searching for what he had in him the whole time: courage. Yet each time he put up a bold front (i.e., when he first appears and tries to eat Toto - SMACK!) or showed bravado and bluster ("If I were king of the FOREEEEEEEEEST!"), he crashed hard. Courage is not, and should not ever be an act. Each time we try to pull it off we get hosed and exposed. It just doesn't work like that. Humanity is a strange beast, remember? We try to roar like lions, only to cower in fear when we get tested. And if that's true, then I'm the biggest coward on the face of the planet.

But that's when we find the true source of courage. We know about God, we trust that He has a purpose and a plan for our lives, we believe in His Son, choose to follow, and to speak up to all the world about the source of our courage. I wish we didn't have to get desperate so many times to remember our place in the grand scheme of things. But if that's what it takes to bring me out of the shed, whether it's trouble or butterflies in my gut, so be it.