Our Mistress of Ceremonies for the Five Minute Friday is Kate over at Heading Home. Hope you link up with us and join the fun.
Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3:13-14 (King James Version)
I gotta reach up higher, 'cuz I wanna feel the fire. Getting bigger with a vigor when You're living in my soul....I wanna reach, reach for heaven. I wanna reach, reach for You.
Reaching, grasping, clinching, gasping for air. Who can rescue the one who is drowning--drowning in a sea of pain, regret, and bad choices? Who will take the hand of the one who is reaching out for help?
What am I reaching for? What goals am I reaching? I'm not sure. Am I reaching for the right thing? I sure hope so.
A while back, I was at our church's annual yard sale and needed some help with the bicycle and rack I had bought. Instead of asking, I tried to think of how I could do it myself. My friend, Frank, asked me why I was being so prideful by not asking for help (he and a couple of guys from Our Father's Arms ended up helping me). I didn't know how to explain it to him. It's not simply a matter of pride, but of necessity. I have reached out for help on various things in the past and been royally ostracized and criticized for asking (including simply asking for prayer). It's like I was drowning, reaching for a rescue, and having my hand slapped away and being yelled at for not being a better swimmer.
What does one do who reaches out and finds the angry emptiness of a closed fist rather than the loving touch of an open hand?