Doing new things doesn’t have to be so complicated

Her goal is to grab a middle seat. She tells me this confidently as we stand in the queue waiting to board the plane. We’re clutching our phones, boarding passes displaying that we are just one number apart in the Southwest seating system. I smile and wonder at the strangeness of her request. Who boards a plane in the A group looking for a middle seat?

It’s our turn and I file onto the plane scoping out overhead space and an aisle seat thinking that is a much more logical request. She keeps talking and asks if we can sit next to each other. I nod and allow her to file in front of me and claim the middle seat.

She’s flying home and I’m headed to a conference. She’s used to the snow that’s fallen where we are headed and I’m a little terrified of driving in it. She’s got pictures of her granddaughter and stories of their time together. And I’ve got excitement about the week ahead. We chat for awhile as someone comes and claims the window seat.

And then she leans over. “I’ll tell you a secret,” she says. “This is a new one for me. I am trying to do life differently. So, a friend suggested I grab a middle seat and work on meeting two new people. The bonus is that there’s much more floor space in the middle.” She smiles and turns her attention to the lady by the window.

Now I have to admit that I laughed to myself. A middle seat? Making friends on a crowded plane? But as I try to cram my backpack under the seat in front of me, I wonder if maybe she has a point.

She is such a charming seatmate that when we land, we wave good-bye like old friends and she says, “I can’t wait to tell everyone that I did a new thing and it was great!”

Wait, what? That was her new thing? Sitting in a middle seat and talking to me? I find it astonishing. It seems too simple to even matter. 

New things are supposed to be big and complicated ways of changing your life. You are supposed to agonize over them and wait for a sign that it will all go well, right? But as my seatmate hurries down the moving sidewalk, I wonder if I have it all wrong.

And God prompts me to pay attention.

It’s the story of Joshua and the Israelites, that he brings to mind. Joshua was the leader of God’s people who took over after Moses died. Talk about doing a new thing! Joshua’s job was to finally lead the people into the Promise Land. And they were right there; right on the edge of it. But as they approached the land, the rushing and roaring of the Jordan River loomed large in front of them.

And this is what the Lord told Joshua to do next: “Tell the priests who carry the ark of the covenant: When you reach the edge of the Jordan’s waters, go and stand in the river” (Joshua 3:8).

Excuse me? Take the Ark of the Covenant which contains the very presence of the Lord himself and go stand in the river?

The river is at flood stage; its rushing waters are pounding over the dry ground. Go stand there? What kind of plan is that? 

The instructions must’ve seemed ridiculous. But Joshua insists, “And as soon as the priests who carry the ark of the Lord — the Lord of all the earth — set foot in the Jordan, its waters… will be cut off and stand in a heap,” (Jos. 3:13).

As soon as you step in, the Lord will stop the torrent of water and you will pass through on dry ground. The new land is yours, as soon as you step into the next thing; as soon as you step into those dangerous waters. The Lord — the Lord of all the earth — will go before you. But you have to step in.

It is an astoundingly simple thought. Step in. Sit in a new seat. Talk to new people. Do the thing.

My hunch is that your new thing, whatever it may be, is a little more complicated than sitting in a new seat on an airplane. Perhaps it is a new job, a new marriage, a new life season, or a new calling. Maybe you have no idea what your new thing could possibly be or maybe you’ve been staring across the rapidly moving water for generations.

I don’t know how close to the river you are today. But I do know this. God is right there with you. And he’s whispering these words; the same ones he poured over Joshua and the Israelites, “Be strong and courageous… for the Lord you God will go with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).

The Lord of all the earth is with you and will lead you … if you let him. Seek him. Don’t let the pounding river freeze you in fear. Seek the Lord. And then? If he tells you to, step in.

And slowly I hear God say it to my fearful heart. The waters didn’t part until their feet hit the waves. The answers won’t come while you cower on the sidelines. Eyes on me, listen to my words and then, you, you step in and watch me bring glory to my name.

“The priests who carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord stood firm on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan while all of Israel passed by …  crossing on dry ground” (Joshua 3:17 emphasis mine).

He goes first. The Lord our God,  goes first, right into the mighty waters of the Jordan River. Our God steps in with us.

And thousands of years later, He would do it again. He would wade right into the sea of humanity as a tiny baby in a manger.  And he would part the waters of sin so that we could see him clearly. And then, he would bid us to come and follow him.

It doesn’t have to be that complicated. Step into the water, pick a different seat, strike up a conversation and know that you do none of it alone.

“For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go …”