Walk on Water
“Why me; why am I always the last one taken when sides are chosen?” cried young Davey to his dad. Davey was shorter than most other kids in the neighborhood and being the youngest in his big family made matters worse. His big brothers never took him seriously and neither did all the other children on the playground.
Davey was always given menial chores, such as drying the dishes, or sweeping the garage, while his big brothers were spending time with their high school teams. Occasionally, he’d get to go watch them play. How he wished he was old enough, big enough and strong enough to play. “My day will come,” he thought to himself. 
“Hey Dad, I’m gonna’ need new cleats for baseball this year.” The young fellow asked with confidence, knowing he could always count on his dad to come through for him. His father didn’t have a great deal of the world’s wealth; however, he worked long and hard to provide for his family and its needs. Most of us have assurance that our earthly fathers will meet our needs…if they can.
The distinguished gentleman had more money than he could possibly spend as he continued to make elaborate purchases to the point of exhaustion. As one dollar left his pocket, another two or three seemed to find their way back. Not one red cent hit the ground, but found its way toward some worthwhile investment. His wealth was only exceeded by his ability to manage it.
“Get your bags packed, I’ve got a whole new plan and you’ll be leading the way,” proclaimed the aged company president. “Where am I going, who’s going with me, and how long will I be gone?” asked the young employee. “No time for such questions! I can tell you it’s a major move, and it’ll be like starting all over; however, I can assure you it’ll pay off in the long run. You’re simply going to have to trust me on this one,” the boss responded.
What a dilemma? How hard would it be to head in a new direction with such limited information? That’s what Abram faced when the Lord said to him, “Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you,” as stated in Genesis 12:1. Of course, Abram believed the Lord and He credited it to him as righteousness.
A day never went by that they didn’t talk with each other. They were separated by many miles geographically; however, their cell phones were links that enabled them to communicate instantly. At times they’d talk an hour, at others only a few minutes; nonetheless, they talked often. They were compelled by the love they held for each other.
“He’s from over there. He’s one of them.” What exactly does that mean? I’ve thought a lot about some of the reasons I’ve heard people give for not wishing to vote for a particular potential presidential nominee. Most of the explanations reveal more about who we are rather than who we may not be voting for. It’s not a pretty picture by any stretch.
“I can’t believe you just said that!” she cried with tears streaming down her cheeks. “There you go again!” he responded. The young couple was learning what married life was all about, how to give and take, and how to respect each other in their new life together. Shortly after returning home from the honeymoon, they’d had their first big argument.
The little girl was quick to make friends and had a best pal after only one day of kindergarten. The two were companions from grade school through college.
After graduation they went in separate directions but still kept in touch with each other through emails. After years of collaboration with her best friend, the one-time little girl had come to fully trust her confidant and had learned to value her judgment. She had confidence that her best friend had her best interest in mind when seeking advice.
The elderly lady had waited anxiously for the local television station’s weather forecast. Finally, the moment arrived. She leaned in close so as not to miss a single word, as the meteorologist proclaimed with all confidence in his best television voice, “There’s a 50% chance of rain tomorrow.”
Trailing by three points with only seconds remaining in the game, a shot was launched from mid-court. “That doesn’t have a prayer of going in,” thought the play-by-play radio man, as he watched the ball sail through the air. But then, miraculously, the ball swished through the net to send the game to overtime.
Isn’t it strange how ‘prayer’ is so often portrayed as hopeless? As a last-ditch effort, you’ll see the football thrown 50 yards downfield toward the end-zone to a bevy of receivers and defenders, all with equal odds of catching the ball…it’s called a ‘Hail Mary’. No wonder so many people have difficulty believing their prayers will be answered. Prayer has been relegated to ‘maybe or maybe not’ without any semblance of faith.
