I’ve been reading a pretty interesting book by Terry Esau, called “Surprise Me, A 30-Day Faith Experiment.” It has a neat concept behind it. He decided to start every day with the simple prayer, “Surprise me, God” and then write about what he experienced each day. It’s kind of like “reading” Reality TV, except it’s, well, real. (I know, I know, we all spend at least a few moments of every day traipsing around some jungle competing in games involving coconuts and pants made out of palm trees.)
Anyway, he’s a very entertaining writer which makes the book a really good read. This passage particularly struck me this evening:
I think that until we really, truly believe, from the bottom of our hearts, that God is crazy in love with us, we’re living life as if in a tractor pull. Never getting anywhere, and the little progress we do make is a stinking lot of work. A joy killer. Who wants to spend a lifetime of spinning and tugging to go a hundred feet? No thanks.
God loves me. Sever the dead weight. God says, “Here, here are the keys to your soul, your Boxster. (I like to pretend that God thinks of me as his Porsche Boxster. I know, it’s weird.) Go crazy. Test the limits of the talents I’ve given you. Push the envelope of your insecurities. Drop the hammer on your fear, pedal to the metal of your faith. Live large, live fast.”
To me, something in that statement just rings true. The metaphor is the perfect portrayal of an energetic and unbridled childlike faith.