The Elixir of Knowledge sits hot and steaming next to the laptop as I come in for a landing on the desk chair. Nailed it. Not bad considering I was maneuvering through a dense mental fog.
The autopilot is on as my fingers stumble across the keys to bring up the morning manna from the Book.
I'm following a reading plan to get through the Book in a year. It disciplines me to read each line...for, lo. I am inherently a "grazer". Pick at this. Munch on that. "Oh, look - fruits of the Spirit!" I have an affinity toward the fast-food, burgers'n'fries Book reading. The easily-read-and-consumed-comfort-food-stuff.
Sometimes this every-line reading can get...well, it becomes more a matter of the will than a matter of enjoyment. Reading through in a year is like Mom's homecookin' as I was growing up. Lotsa different things can cross your plate in a year's time. Mom would look at me from across the table, doing that slow-wave fork-thing moms do, the forerunner of the Jedi hand wave.
"Don't make that face. They're brussel sprouts. They're good for you."
I just waded through 27 chapters of brussel sprouts. And now I'm shuffling through broccoli.
I take a pull of the Elixir to refocus. OK. Hey, wait. Something's happening. The people are complaining about the manna. (Buncha whiners.) And Moses takes their complaint straight to God.
"They want meat, Lord. They're tired of manna. And they want leeks, onions, and garlic, too."
"They want meat instead of My provision? OK. I'll give them meat. Meat for a whole month. So much they'll get sick of it."
I lean in towards the laptop as Moses says something that I can totally relate to.
"There are over 600,000 warriors alone. And meat for a month? We don't have enough livestock to pull that off. That's impossible!"
A swig of the Elixir brings a flashback of Andrew saying the same thing about five biscuits and two bluegills at The Picnic for 5,000.
And then God says a very God-like thing.
"Have My hands become too short and inadequate to make this happen? You'll see whether or not I can keep My Word."
I sink back into the chair. Huh. That's really the crux of it, eh?
Does God.......have alligator arms?
Can He do what He says He will do...or not?
That, my fellow hikers on The Walk, is the $64,000 question.
Hey, I'll loudly thump my Bible with the best of 'em, exclaiming He's all-powerful and that nothing is impossible for Him.
But when I feel called by Him to do something extraordinary, what do I really do?
In my head? And in my heart?
I inventory my assets. And I'm lacking - severely lacking - in what is needed to pull it off.
The god in my mirror - that god has alligator arms.
The God of the Book does not. There is nothing His arms cannot reach and no promise He cannot keep. God doesn't brag or boast. He merely states fact.
I need to get my head around this IF I'm going to follow Him completely - to risk everything on what He says to do. Otherwise I will never let go of the boat. I'll never answer His call to step out onto the waves. But if I do, oh baby, the places I'll go and the things I'll see. All because of one particular eternal truth.
"God doesn't have alligator arms."
Oswald Chambers called it "a life of reckless abandon". A free fall into Grace. No bungee cord. No parachute. Just complete faith in Him.
I shake my head as I take another swig. Who would've thought that broccoli could be this good.