I mentioned a while back that I have a nephew, Nick, who was very suddenly stricken with numbness and paralysis from the chest down. He’s in a battle to reteach his legs to walk. The rehab is going to take a significant amount of time and his resolve to stay focused and daring during arduous marathons of therapy are demanding more strength and courage than I’m sure I have. As if it weren’t enough, he faces another test of his bravery and strength each day as well – that of continuing to be a husband and a father and engaging in each day even though life has been unfair to him and changed so much in the time it takes to drink a cup of coffee. I saw pictures yesterday of Nick playing catch with his children. In many ways that activity, smiling and laughing while throwing and catching a ball from his wheelchair in a hospital corridor may have taken more pluck than anything else. Choosing to stay positive and carrying on isn’t for sissies when the going gets tough. I admire him and his family for how they are walking this awful journey.
Courage is an unpredictable and sometimes skittish creature. I picture my own courage almost mouse-like: small and furry, timid often but with unexpected moments of ferocity. I think my bravery is small and not very mighty. For me, it’s so easy to focus on the fear and be ruled by that instead of calling up my nerve. What I’m learning though, is that courage abounds when I make myself take the first step. Courage multiplies and solidifies with each step as long as I keep moving forward. Think Daniel in the lion’s den. No doubt he was panicked when the door slammed shut. He could smell the musky scent of the lions, feel their body heat and hear them nearby. He may have thought if he stood still enough they wouldn’t notice him. But then, when he didn’t feel the tear of their teeth, maybe he turned around. Maybe he stood there a long time just staring into the eyes of the huge cat in front of him. Perhaps, when the animal cocked his head to study the strange creature in front of him, Daniel had just enough daring to reach out his hand. (He could have been thinking, “Okay, if he’s going to eat me at least I will find out if his mane is really as soft as it looks.”) And that’s my point. God didn’t let them eat Daniel and he survived, but maybe, just maybe Daniel was meant to do more than just survive. Maybe his courage helped him turn around and reach out. Maybe he and the cats spent the night playing something more fun than cat and mouse. Isn’t that what God wants for us? Life “more abundantly”? We can live our life cowering, using only the bare essentials of courage and strength, or we can choose to reach out, take that step out of the boat, let go of our lost dreams or current troubles, and play ball.
