A story that pretty much has happened to everyone . . . in some way or another

I know summer is long past. Not my longing for it though. Truth be told, I love summer. I like wearing shorts and t-shirts. I wear socks as little as possible; going barefoot as much as I can. I don't mind the heat and I adore the days that never seem to end. For me at least, this time of year is magical. Worry and problems seem to melt away like ice cream in the hot sun. At least they do in my romanticized version. In reality, what makes this time or any time magical is when something is seen and learned from. There's an old saying floating around that goes along these lines: ninety percent of life is just showing up. I agree with that, but let me venture this, the remaining ten percent is more important than the ninety percent of showing up just mentioned. The ten percent that always slips under the radar, the missing puzzle piece, is paying attention. Look at it this way, take the ninety percent of showing up and add the 10 percent of paying attention. The sum of these two components added together equals the one hundred percent, whole picture of life. 

When things are seen from this perspective, lessons are learned. Such is the case this past summer. Think swimsuits and pool. Pools are fun, but as we all know, they can be dangerous too. Especially if you don't know how to swim. Learning to live and learning to swim are very similar; lessons for both are required. It's at this point I got to observe a swim lesson and a life lesson simultaneously. There was this little girl I was watching take swim lessons. She was in the three or four-year-old age range. The whole time she was in the water she was terrified. She never stopped crying. She seemed determined to be terrified in spite of everyone's efforts to reassure her there was nothing to be afraid of. She was completely safe - something her little mind seemed incapable of grasping. Point blank, she couldn't, wouldn't and just refused to see it. 

This parallel exists with all of us in our relationship with God. To some extent, we're all afraid of something. Even though, just like the terrified little girl, we are completely safe. For some reason, we just can't seem to grab a hold of God's grace, protection and assurance that have been extended to each of us. We're covered. In the seventh chapter of Matthew Jesus spoke of the narrow gate that leads to eternal life. He also said, "few find it." Think about this. Could the narrow gate Jesus spoke of be obscured because of our refusal/determination not to look past our fears and see the loving arms of God extended towards us?