There are, I think, at least three types of people who visit the beach on hot summer days.
Firstly, there are those who stutter into the water – inching their way incrementally in, freezing for a moment every time the coldness of the water causes them to pause their advance. Eventually they make it in, but only once each rarely exposed area of flesh is startled by the executive decision of the part of the body that is always last to suffer its consequences.
Secondly, there are those who, less ‘all at sea’ in the waves, are wholeheartedly committed to enjoying themselves. They race into the water and then, seemingly oblivious to any potential downsides to their enthusiasm, dive headfirst beneath the waves only to emerge laughing uncontrollably.
And thirdly there are those who, like me, spend far too long watching the antics of the other two types from a safe distance. They consider themselves too grown-up to indulge in such childlike behaviour but, even as they do so, they can’t help but feel a little melancholy as they watch others so obviously enjoying themselves messing about in the water.
Longing to experience the same happiness, yet desperate to remain on dry land, they persuade themselves that they’re simply being rational. Too proud to look foolish, too tired to make the effort, and too self-conscious to risk embarrassment, they remain too stubborn to venture in despite, perhaps, deep down wanting to.
Which is not all that different from how some people approach faith in Christ.
Some are hesitant at first but soon discover that they relish the experience every bit as much as those who plunge straight in. Others remain far off – commenting on something they don’t really understand, having never experienced it fully for themselves.
Perhaps they too would do well to taste and see that the Lord is good. [Psalm 34:8] Because, having eventually tiptoed in myself, I’ve found that, once you’re in, the water really is lovely.
Some musings 