Soaring With the Osprey

As a new year begins, it's customary to look back at the last year and see what goals have been accomplished and what dreams have been realized. As with anything nostalgic in nature, looking back at one year often turns into looking back on several until one is contemplating one's entire existence. This happened to me this morning as I sat with my coffee and looked out at the gray first day of January 2014. And I realized that most of my life can be summed up in one word. I wish it were something deep like Transcendence or Illuminating. I'd even settle for something like Peaceful or Faithful. No, the word that best sums me up is a negative one: Fear.

We all have it. We all avoid it. We all ignore it. But it's there just the same, like the Boogeyman hiding in our closet or under the bed. This Boogeyman hides away until just the right time, and then when our faith is lowest and our souls the weakest, he pops out from hiding to terrorize us just as the dark did when we were children.

Fear.

Fear has dominated my life for much more than I care to admit and much longer than it ever should have.

Fear.

As with all things not of God, this particular vice seems quite paradoxical when looked at in clear terms.

Fear of failure. Fear of success.

Fear of rejection. Fear of acceptance.

Fear of not being generous enough. Fear of being too generous.

Fear of not living life to the fullest. Fear of death.

Fear of comparison. Fear of not measuring up.

Fear of not speaking out. Fear of saying too much.

In the dark of our weakness, fear seems insurmountable, a mountain we will never even climb much less leave behind. This Boogeyman knows just what to say to defeat us, hold us captive, take our eyes off Christ.

That's what it all comes down to, I realized, watching an osprey glide through the air, coming in for a landing to his nest built high in a tree by the lake. The Enemy will use anything at all to take our eyes off Christ, and once we've looked away, he will throw every temptation, every fear, every distraction our way to keep us looking in the wrong direction. Some people glance away for a moment, some for a day, some for years. But it all comes down to looking away.

Taking our eyes off the cross. Taking our eyes away from the Master. That's when the distractions come roaring in: How will we pay this bill? When did I stop fitting into those jeans? When did she stop talking to us? The Enemy has a never-ending supply of ammunition, custom-made for each one of us.

And with all things, Christ knew this would happen. "But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

I shouldn't fear my weaknesses; I should rejoice in them. Because only then can His strength be made perfect in me. As soon as I take my eyes off the cross, I am no longer dependent on Him; I rely on myself, and as I have shown myself time and time again, that is not how I want to live.

MY grace is sufficient. Not my best laid plans. Not my 401K. Not my nicely organized list. His grace. Grace. Unearned. Undeserved. Given freely no matter how many times I glance away like the wayward child I am.

So this year, I commit to living focused on Him. Focused on the cross. Focused on the Savior. I want to soar with that osprey. He had no fear this morning. No worries. He had a goal he was focused on, and that led him. If I'm focused on the Savior, that should lead me. Not my fears. Not the distractions. I want to live this year without fear. Without having to look back on the time wasted by worrying. I want to soar about the worries, above the noise, above the distractions. And God willing, with my eyes focused on the Master, I will do exactly that.

You can too! Keep your eyes trained on Him. Focus on the cross. Focus on forgiveness. Focus on living without fear. Soar.