When Life feels Steep…
I know many stories — old and new, happy and sad. And if I could, I would tell them to you. But if I told them, I would be revealing what was spoken in confidence.
I could tell you of people I see nearly every day who lean bravely into the wind of life and sail against the tide, close to the rocks of disappointment and failure, in perilous proximity to the breakers of broken dreams. If I could, I would share with you some of the insecurities and doubts that plague many of the people I love and care for. But in the telling, I would only deepen those insecurities. Many people tell me their personal stories. I know things I dare not repeat. I’m restrained by a trust. To violate that trust would be unforgivable.
I could tell you of people I see nearly every day who lean bravely into the wind of life and sail against the tide, close to the rocks of disappointment and failure, in perilous proximity to the breakers of broken dreams. If I could, I would share with you some of the insecurities and doubts that plague many of the people I love and care for. But in the telling, I would only deepen those insecurities. Many people tell me their personal stories. I know things I dare not repeat. I’m restrained by a trust. To violate that trust would be unforgivable.
And so, I will not tell you all the stories I know. But I will tell you one more.
He was funny. He loved to laugh and joke and watch others respond to his zany antics. Even as a young child, he had learned that people like to laugh, and he enjoyed making that happen. Now, at fifteen, he was the high school class clown. But deep within, he harbored an emptiness, a longing to be fulfilled, a nagging, gnawing need for significance that never left him. And he didn’t know why.
But he leaned into the wind and sailed on.
One day, in ninth-grade English, Miss Michaeloff took the large text of classic writings from its place on her desk and began class.
“Today we’re going to read Emily Dickinson.”
She opened the book and read– slowly, with deep feeling, in whispered tones and unashamed truthfulness, the words of a young woman; words of another mariner leaning into the wind:
“I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you–Nobody–Too?
Then there’s a pair of us?
Don’t tell! they’d advertise–you know!”
He sat in class, listening to Miss Michaeloff. But he could not look at her. She was peering into his soul, and he feared detection. If he looked up, she might wonder why his eyes were so sad. She might realize that the words she read verbalized the deep questions in his life. She might ask what he thought. And he didn’t know what he thought. She might ask him to comment, and he had no comment–only questions, and a realization that the story she read was his. He was a nobody, and he came to that realization as he sat in honor’s English class on a warm, spring afternoon.
When the bell rang for class to be dismissed, he walked out the door and down the crowded hall; he did not laugh or smile or even speak to those who hurried past him. He thought. He pondered. He recited the first line of Emily’s verse to himself, as he looked into the eyes of his classmates: I’m Nobody. Who are you?
And he leaned into the wind and sailed on.
For days and weeks and months he sailed, leaning into the wind of life, noticing the crowded sea-lanes–noticing the other mariners around him, their empty vessels sliding in and out of lonely ports-of-call, barely afloat, afraid. He watched and listened to others who covered their lonely lives with laughter. He helped them with their laughter. He was funny. But deep inside, where they could not see, he recited Emily’s poem to himself, and he cried, I’m Nobody. Who are you?
Weeping silently to himself, he leaned into the wind and sailed on.
One day, the young man noticed a storm on the horizon of his life. He had seen other storms. He knew from experience that when storms come, you have to prepare for them. So he pulled in his sails; he secluded himself, and battened-down his life tightly so the storm could not harm him.
But there seemed to be no safe harbor. The storm surged. The darkness overwhelmed. the wind howled like never before, and he was afraid. Wave upon wave of sorrow and doubt washed over his life. Fear pounded his deck. He leaned into the wind with all his might, but he could not sail on. He silently cried out in fear, Help, I need somebody to help me. My name is Nobody, and I need help.
That’s when he saw Him, standing brave and unafraid on the mountainous waves of doubt and fear. His voice was a thunderous symphony, soaring over the noise of the storm; His smile, gentle as a spring breeze, in His hand, a bough of peace pointed the way toward safe passage. This Mariner of mercy looked into the face of Nobody and spoke three wonderful words: “Peace, Be still!”
No storm could threaten in His presence, and in submission and obedience, the waves subsided and the wind returned to the four corners of the earth. This Captain brought with Him safe passage and friendship and loyalty and love. “These are for you,” He said to the Nobody. “I bought and paid for them with My life. Now, I give them to you.”
The young man reached out and humbly accepted the generous offer. He listened, as the Giver of every good and perfect gift spoke again. “There is healing and forgiveness in My name. There is eternal life and purpose in My name. You , who once were Nobody have now been adopted by the King, and I give you a new name: Christian. It means one who follows Christ.”
“When you feel alone or afraid, remember Me and My eternal covenant with all who will call upon My name. When you feel insignificant, inadequate, inferior, remember My promise. I will never leave you or forsake you. And when storms of uncertainty and loneliness appear on the horizon remember your name, for in remembering your name, you remember My name. Never speak of Nobody again.”
“God…gave Him the name
that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.”
Philippians 2:9-11
“In the night I remember Your name, O LORD.”
Psalm 119:55
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