Slide of Faith

I remember it so well.

The moment I loved, and dreaded, that combination of feelings that would leave knots in your stomach and butterflies in your chest.

My mom wanted to go to the mall.

And when Mom when to the mall, I went to Playland.

I'm sure you've all seen Playlands just like this one.

A place in the mall where Mom's and Dad's can check in their kids in hopes of having a few hours of uninterrupted time, full of sales, shopping bags, and the smell of cinnamon pretzels.

And honestly, I loved Playland.

I loved to hang out with other kids.

I loved to play in the ball pit.

And I loved to sneak other kids' snacks while they were in said ballpit.

Life was good at Playland.

Except for one thing.

The one element of Playland that haunted my dreams, and caused me to stare my six year old failure and inadequacy in the face.

The slide.

This was no ordinary slide.

This slide was a massive, pastel painted, waterfall motif slope of death-

That I wanted to go on desperately.

And every time I would step foot into Playland.

I would pull up my stirrup pants,

Push my bowlcut out of my eyes,

And take my Keds off to begin the long and treacherous walk up the stairs to get to the top of the slide.

As each foot was placed in front of the other, I would try to amp up my courage.

"You can do this Katie".

"All the little kids are doing it".

"If you do this, I bet Mom will buy you a Zebra Cake".

And every time I would get to the top of the slide, I would stop.

And look down at the plunge that was before me.

And freeze.

I couldn't go.

I wanted to try.

It was the thing I wanted most in the world.

I tried to force my legs to sit down,

And force my arms to give myself a push.

But I just couldn't move.

And no amount of coaxing, or promise of Zebra Cakes ,could get me to move from that spot.

Sometimes, I feel like that with my faith.

I look around, and I see these amazing people with this unwavering faith.

People that can follow wherever the Lord leads without looking back,

Without any kind of coaxing.

I see this faith,

The kind of faith that gives you knots in your stomach and butterflies in your chest because of the sheer beauty of what the Lord is doing in your life,

And it's what I want most in the world.

And sometimes, I don't feel like my faith is that strong.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm standing at the top of that slide,

Wanting to take the leap,

But not be able to.

And then I feel embarrassed.

And ashamed.

And no amount of Zebra Cakes can solve this question that lingers in the back of my mind-

Why can't I make my faith stronger?

Why am I so scared to take that plunge?

But this morning, I felt this sense of peace and encouragement when I read this verse from Ephesians.

⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God

The glorious and amazing thing I discovered is that my faith doesn't come from myself.

My faith is a gift of God.

A gift that can be asked for.

And a gift that can be received.

No amount of willing,

Or coaxing, 

Or stressing,

Can cause my strength to grow stronger.

Only God, the provider of all blessings, and all things good,

Can help me to do that.

Only God can give me the courage to pull up my stirrup pants,

Push my bowl cut out of my eyes,

Walk my Keds up that long flight of stairs,

Sit down,

And give me the push I need to have that unwavering, slide into the great unknown kind of faith.

And somehow, I find such freedom in that.

That this is not a journey I'm going on alone.

The same person who I desire to have greater faith in,

Has been standing beside me, ready to offer the gift that whole time.

And all I have to do is sit down and take it.