One of the most important things I have learned about faith is this: it is a whole lot more important to trust than to understand — more important to submit than to control — more important to follow than to lead.
I’ll be honest with you. I am a control person. It is one of my greatest weaknesses. To maintain a sense of control — and the illusion of security — I try to keep my hands on as many things as I can. When my family was younger, I had a particular way of doing just about everything. A particular way to decorate the Christmas tree. A particular way to fold the clothes. A particular way to arrange the pantry. A system for everything.
There’s a movie I enjoy — My Blue Heaven with Steve Martin, Rick Moranis, and Joan Cusack. Early in the film, Barney’s wife Margaret is leaving him. She explains, “You get the oil changed every second Tuesday, you get the car washed every fourth Thursday, you get your hair cut on the eleventh of every month… He has a system for eating pancakes.” When I first watched that movie, I didn’t empathize with Margaret. I thought: I wonder if his pancake system is the same as mine.
Maybe I was a little extreme — but I think a lot of us want some sense of control. We want to know where we are, where we are going, and what comes next. That can even find its way into our faith. We want to be fully guided by the Spirit, but first we want God to lay it all out in front of us. We want the roadmap. We want the assurance that we won’t get hurt along the way.
So Abram Went
In this morning’s scripture, God calls 75-year-old Abraham to leave his home for a distant and foreign land — along with his 65-year-old wife Sarai. What is remarkable to me is not only the promises God makes, but that Abraham asks no questions. There is no hesitation. There is no figuring it out or seeking second opinions.
“So Abram went…” — Genesis 12:4
That’s it. That type of response feels risky, doesn’t it? I would want money saved. A reliable car. A plan for every eventuality. I wouldn’t want to take a step without seeing the whole staircase. I wouldn’t want to step into the darkness without seeing solid ground first.
But here’s the truth: the only thing I am risking is giving up control to God. I might feel a sense of peace because I have my hand on the wheel — but I have no real idea where I’m going. When I go when God says go, I am not actually risking anything. God told Abraham:
“I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing… and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” — Genesis 12:2–3
Don’t Settle for Fine
Ted Lasso is one of my favorite shows to stream. In one episode, a character named Roy gives some memorable advice to his friend Rebecca about a man she is dating. Roy’s verdict? “He’s fine. That’s it. Nothing wrong with that — most people are fine. But it’s not about him… You deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been struck by lightning. Don’t you dare settle for fine.”
Like Roy, I believe God is pleading with us not to settle for fine — but to live a life where we have felt struck by lightning. So many of us are leading “good enough” lives instead of the abundant life God has planned for us — because we don’t want to take a step until we can see where our foot will fall.
“I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” — John 10:10
Stepping Into the Darkness
Martin Luther King Jr. is credited with saying: “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians: “For we walk by faith, not sight.”
The first time this concept really clicked for me was about twenty years ago, at a training where I heard a Methodist pastor from Florida named Rev. Dick Wills speak. He talked about stepping out into the darkness. We can see where our feet are right now, but we can’t see where that next step will land. And yet — we are meant to step. When we do, we trust that God will place solid footing underneath us. We don’t step because we can see it is safe. We step because we know God calls us to keep stepping.
Isaiah reminds us:
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways… As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” — Isaiah 55:8–9
The Tandem Bike
I want to share a story by Tim Hansel called The Road of Life:
At first, I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there, sort of like a president. I recognized His picture when I saw it, but I really didn’t know Him.
But later when I met Christ, it seemed as though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a tandem bike and Christ was in the back helping me pedal.
I don’t know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since.
When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable… it was the shortest distance between two points.
But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts up mountains and through rocky places, and at breakneck speeds, it was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He said, “Pedal!”
I worried and was anxious and asked, “Where are you taking me?” He laughed and didn’t answer and I started to learn to trust.
I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure. And when I’d say, “I’m scared”, He’d lean back and touch my hand.
He took me to people with gifts that I needed, gifts of healing, acceptance and joy. They gave me their gifts to take on my journey, our journey, my Lord’s and mine.
And we were off again. He said, “Give the gifts away; they’re extra baggage, too much weight.” So I did, to the people we met and I found that in giving, I received, and still our burden was light.
I did not trust Him at first, in control of my life. I thought He’d wreck it, but He knows bike secrets — how to make it bend to take sharp corners, jump to clear high rocks and fly to shorten scary passages.
And I’m learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places. I’m beginning to enjoy the view and the cool breezes on my face with my delightful constant companion, Christ.
And when I’m sure I just can’t do any more, He just smiles and says, “PEDAL!”
It is hard to give up control. But what we sometimes don’t realize is that everything we’ve been working so hard to gain by being in control — we actually gain when we give it up.
A Personal Word
This past week, an upcoming change in appointments has felt very real. There are meetings being scheduled to help Pastor Debra step behind this pulpit, and other meetings getting the ducks in a row for me to serve as pastor at Bellamy United Methodist. A couple of days ago I was blessed with the opportunity to spend several hours with Pastor Debra. I shared how much this church and each of you mean to me — how terribly hard it is to leave a place that has become home and people who have become friends.
I was intent on covering every base, making sure she knew exactly how things should be done. But then the conversation meandered. I found myself sharing the story of our time together — Movie Nights, ensembles and the organ, Good Friday and trick-or-treating, times of grief and times of joy. Pastor Debra’s eyes were bright, her smile was wide, her heart was warmed. I wasn’t just sharing information. I was sharing love — the love the Holy Spirit created in my heart for a place that was just a point on a map two years ago. And as I shared, the Holy Spirit was planting love in Pastor Debra’s heart too.
I am anxious about what God has in store for me. Pastor Debra is excited — and probably a little anxious too. You may be anxious about what God has in store for you. The folks at Bellamy are probably anxious as well. Nothing in our scripture suggested Abraham wasn’t anxious — leaving your home and stepping into the unknown is a little scary. But we step anyway. Because even though it is dark in front of us, even though we can’t see what God has placed there for us to step on, we know that God has a road laid out and safe places to stand all along the way.
The River
As I was preparing this message, a song came to mind I hadn’t thought of in a long time — The River by Garth Brooks. I first heard it when I left my friends and family in Virginia and traveled all the way to Arkansas for a new job with new people in a new home. It gave me courage to let go and allow myself to be guided by God. I hope it encourages you too.
You know a dream is like a river / Ever changin’ as it flows / And the dreamer’s just a vessel / That must follow where it goes…
Too many times we stand aside / And let the waters slip away / ‘Til what we put off ’til tomorrow / Has now become today / So don’t you sit upon the shoreline / And say you’re satisfied / Choose to chance the rapids / And dare to dance the tide…
There’s bound to be rough waters / And I know I’ll take some falls / But with the good Lord as my captain / I can make it through them all.
— “The River,” Garth Brooks
Don’t Settle for the Shoreline
I don’t know exactly what things will look like a few months from now. But I know that I want to be a dreamer following where God’s dream goes. I want the Lord to be the captain. I want to get off the shoreline. I don’t want to settle for “satisfied” — I want to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tide.
I want to get on a bike with Jesus and ride at breakneck speeds, giving my gifts away, pedaling without any idea where I’m going — because I am being led by my “delightful constant companion, Christ.” I want to pack my bag and go when God calls me, just like Abraham and Sarah. I want to take that step on the staircase I can’t see, and step out into the darkness knowing God has laid a path.
And I pray all of that for you too. I pray that you live life feeling butterflies — that strange mix of fear and exhilaration that comes from living a life you can’t control because God is so fully in charge.
We can settle for fine like Rebecca — or we can take Roy’s advice: “Don’t you dare settle for fine.” We can sit on the shoreline and say we’re satisfied, or we can chance the rapids with the Lord as our captain. We can hold the handlebars of that tandem bike — or we can let Jesus take the lead and pedal.
When God called Abraham to go, Abraham didn’t go alone. Throughout the whole of scripture, we see God present with his people. Today, when God calls us to go — when God brings about change — we also do not go alone.
Scriptures referenced: Genesis 12:1–4 | Isaiah 55:8–9 | 2 Corinthians 5:7 | John 10:10
