Just Keep Your Head Above

Last time I wrote (Oct. 6, see below) I was imagining how our lives can be like a swampy struggle to keep our heads above water. And I got more responses to this post (through emails or in person) than any other.

One person told me how much it reminded her of a song by Jack’s Mannequin called Swim. And when she showed me the lyrics, I was blown away. They acknowledge how tough life can be — like choking on the salt water of a tidal wave — but also hint that you can keep swimming when there’s someone beside you, promising that the other side is not as far away as you think.

Then she played the song for me, and as compelling as the lyrics were, the music was even more so. It was such a gift to me to know — not just “head” knowing but the “deep in my bones” knowing that music conveys so well — that I truly am not alone in my need to have someone walk (or swim) beside me.

I’d love to hear what songs keep you going. Maybe we can share that with each other here on the blog. Give it some thought.

The song Swim ends with words that I can imagine God singing to me when I’m feeling pulled down:

You gotta swim

Swim in the dark

There's an ocean to drift in

Feel the tide shifting away from the spark

Yeah you gotta swim

Don't let yourself sink

Just follow the horizon

I promise you it's not as far as you think

The currents will drag us away from our love

Just keep your head above
Just keep your head above
Swim

All kinds of currents drag me away from God’s love, but God’s pull is stronger. And God’s faithful love holds my head up while I swim toward that shore where I can rest a while.

Plenty of the songs/poems of the Bible (aka “psalms”) are similar to Swim in a way. They’re creative expressions of anguish... of sickness or depression or grief. It’s like digging out all your inside ugliness and artistically rearranging the pieces until the whole becomes something with a strange beauty of its own.

Don’t expect the Psalms to be articulate research papers of what to believe. They’re pretty much raw expressions of everything from ecstatic joy to homicidal anger to suicidal grief. They can be companions, friends to let you know you’re not the only one breathing fire or feeling high on life.

You can click on the title of this post to read Psalm 46, where the lyricist sees God in the natural world and in politics as well. But the most profound experience of God comes in the sense of safety in the middle of it all. And that link, BibleGateway, may be one you want to keep handy to find other psalms to check out (there are 150 of them, so you won't run out fast).

And if you'd like to read the rest of Swim's lyrics, here's one of many sites you could go to: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/jacksmannequin/swim.html

~ Kari Henkelmann Keyl

Steve-o's Devos: Here We Are

Grace to you and peace.

This is how Paul opens his letter to a a faith community he started in Thessalonica (click the title to read the text). Somehow, those words feel important and necessary lately. As I drive around Nashua, you can begin to see the effects of some of the anxiety that has been unleashed lately in our country. Many restaurants are vacant at dinner, the evening rush seems very manageable with often more staff on hand than there are customers. Something is happening in our city.

What intrigues me most about this passage is that it reminds me that we must come to you not only in word, in places like this blog and facebook, but also in amazing daily encounters in our city. So often, when I have been out at Panera or Unos, it amazes me how often I catch a sign of God's grace and presence in the people around me.

One need only be silent and pay attention to those around you in any coffee shop to discover the many interesting lives and ways that things are happening. One night, a couple of people dreamed about how they could encourage people to give to their ministry. A young woman took a solitary break from her every day work serving others. Another person works diligently at their computer. Further away, someone is being challenged by the Hippo paper's sudoku or crossword puzzle. Counter clerks chat to themselves somewhat nervous that a slow night might mean they have to leave early and earn less money, impacting their own personal budget.

In the midst of these various lines of life, God moves, is moving. If you wait long enough you can begin to sense it and in the more personal conversations we have together we realize why By the Way is here to help you discover a different way of life. It is a way that can break the bondage we have from things that are out of our control but which still feel like they are in charge of our lives. It is a way that opens us up to the abundance that we actually have and can share with others. It is a way that reveals a heart for one another in a world that tends to focus on selfishness.

The question remains, are you ready to be truly inspired by God's spirit? Are you ready to walk a different road that takes you by the way?

Get a Glimpse

Does it ever seem like you’re swimming in a swamp, feeling like the water is maliciously trying to suck you under? It’s all you can do to keep your nose where the oxygen is not in liquid form. But you think: I’m strong. I can keep pushing myself. I can do this. I think…

And then you see the alligator.

It’s not a pleasant way to live, as if the circumstances of your life are all conspiring against you. Like it’s all just too much. With no way out. And there’s no one who could possibly help.

Or is there?

Ok, I know there are times when there truly is no help available; no one but you can dig yourself out. But often what you really need is a caring and smart listener who can re-frame all that’s going on. Someone who can help you see that the safe shore you’re swimming toward is really not unreachable. Someone you trust to swim alongside you. And maybe the two of you can even take on that alligator.

If you can remember such a time when a friend battled alligators with you, just take a moment to soak in that sense of being defended and cared for. And then, with those memories floating around, read the poetic words from Isaiah that you’ll find when you click on the title of this post. Just read the first section, verses 1 – 5.

You’ve read it already? Read it again while the rest of us are catching up, ok?

The poet is seeing God walk beside needy people, fighting the superpower bullies and caring for those who’ve been beaten up. Whenever I read these words, I can truly feel the safety-giving presence of God wash over me. It makes me think of how God has reached out to me through amazing friends or the perfect piece of music or the sight of glorious autumn colors. But that’s just the beginning.

I also feel a strong pull to be looking out for people around me who are in desperate struggles. I sense that God wants to work through me to swim alongside those who are swamped and see no hope.

I think about all those who are going to have a hard time with rent and heating bills this winter, people who are afraid they’ll lose their homes. We’ve really got to be watching out for one another, maybe now more than ever. Maybe that will even help nudge us out of our own hopeless prisons, to be empowered by God’s Spirit to care for others, even as we’re looking for help ourselves.

Ok, if you haven’t already read ahead the rest of the passage (that’s for the high-achieving geeks among us), then read verses 6 – 10.

Now the poet/visionary Isaiah sees an incredibly elaborate meal in the great outdoors, with awesome mountain views. And everyone has a place at this huge picnic table: the desperate ones, the helpful ones, and even the bullies. Everyone’s together, being served up royally by God.

Maybe this isn’t going to be happening today. But one day it will happen. Oppressors and oppressed alike will be at one table, hanging out with God and each other. The biggest bully of them all, Death, will be no more. And if people are crying, it’ll be tears of relief and joy washing over their once-anxious faces.

That’s the kind of hopeful picture that will keep me swimming strong in my swamps, holding up the heads of others so they can see the mountain, too.

~ Kari Henkelmann Keyl