Here’s What Is Sometimes Better Than A Leap of Faith

A little over two years ago I stood in front of chapel at the beginning of a new semester to address a weary group of students, staff and faculty. A few weeks before the end of the previous semester, our beloved president and friend resigned from his position. 

As Dean of Students, I now stood before my school with the responsibility of figuring out how to give our community permission to step into the next phase of our story.

I saw faces tired of change, sad from loss, and drained from the cycle of rally-inducing promises, followed by let down. This was not the time for another “put your head down, pick up your boot straps” kind of speech. And yet I knew it was a “be strong and courageous” type of moment.

Photo Credit: Leo Hidalgo, Creative Commons

I opened the book of Joshua and I began to read about a people who recently lost their leader. They were looking out at a river they were supposed to cross, during flood stage, to a land full of the scary unknown. Their desert journey had brought them loss, monotony, and unfulfilled promises. There is little doubt they were tired.

Yet it is into this scene we heard God say, “be strong and courageous.

I read the passage to my community and even emphasized the “very” on the second of three times the phrase “be strong and courageous” is repeated in the first nine verses.

I kept reading. 

And I noticed that, as Joshua wraps up his heart-to-heart with God, he turns his back toward the leaders of the people. He doesn’t give a rallying cry. He doesn’t scold them for being tired. He doesn’t challenge them to have an attitude change by saying, “be strong and courageous.” He calls on them to get their camp ready.

He says, “Sort through your stuff, get your house in order and get ready, because God is on the move and so are we. You’ve got three days.”

I stopped and looked out over my own people.

They had heard the promises and the rally cries. The voices in their heads played the tapes telling them they weren’t doing enough or good enough. The call I was to give them had nothing to do with attitude changes, work ethic or therapy sessions. 

It had to do with pointing them to a God who was about to move and reminding them of their part in the story. 

It was time to get our camp in order.

After days of preparation, the next instructions were for the people to watch for the ark of the covenant, the physical representation of the presence of God. When they spotted the ark, they were to move out from where they were camped and follow it.

Simply watch for God and, when they saw him, move, follow.

The final step in the path towards strength and courage was crossing the river. This would be the big step they had waited for. Finally, this is where they would have to muster the strength to get across a flooded river.

“Let’s hear it, Joshua. Tell us how we need to be stronger and braver and better than we’ve been before. Give us the Braveheart speech we’ve been waiting for.”  

Instead, God asked them to step into the water.

Don’t leap, don’t swim, don’t fear, just step in the edge. And they did. As the priests stepped into the water, the miraculous happened. The water stopped up stream and the people crossed over on dry ground.

The 40 year wandering ended, not with a battle, not with a leap, not with doing more and doing it better, but with a simple step.

I looked up from the Scriptures.

With a few tears in my eyes, I reminded our school that, more often than not, faith looks less like leaping into a river and more like taking a small step into the edge of it.  

To get to that step, sometimes we need to clean up our camp, look for God passing by and follow where he moves.

It is not our job to stop to the river. It’s our job to be ready, spot God and step.

As I walked off the stage, I knew those words were not just for our school, but they were for me. I knew this new season marked the beginning of a larger coming change. I loved my job, I loved my life, but a call buried in me was starting to become louder and I could no longer stay still.

I had seen God move, but I wasn’t ready to go.

I began taking my own advice and cleaning up my camp.

There were relationships that needed rebuilding. My financial spending lacked restraint, and physically, I was in the worst shape of my life. There were truths about myself that needed uncovering and lies that needed to be put to rest. 

If I had been asked to take a step that day, I would not have been ready. I needed time to clean some things up.

So with the help of friends and God, I started getting my camp in order.

I began watching for God to move. There were so many moments that would take up an entire book just to recount.

God moved over and over and when He did, I got up and followed.

Two years ago this month, I stood again before my school. This time I was telling them how I was resigning from my position. 

The moment came when I actually had to step.

Today I look back and regret nothing.

I am more comfortable in my own skin, I am working to develop a TV show, finishing a book, passed my PhD qualifying exams and just said “yes” to a job I never would have dreamed would have been an option for me.

I’m not saying it has been an easy journey, but it was worth taking that step two years ago.

I didn’t have to rally. I didn’t have to muster anything. I didn’t need to part any waters. Starting over two years ago, I had to get my camp ready, watch for God to move, take a tiny step and wait for the waters to part.  I’m sure there will be many more tiny steps in the years to come, but I think I will look back on two years ago as the one that helped me cross the Jordan.