One summer evening, my friend Leah and her daughter took me and Alan and Jacob away from the bustling, tourist-filled streets of Bar Harbor Village to the end of a side street. It was low tide, and a sand bar leading to a nearby island had emerged. It was dark, about 9:00pm, and a fog hung over the water. With only the faint glow from distant lights, we set out to cross the sand bar.
No one spoke. We were all concentrating on feeling our way forward in the dark. The salty air was so moist that our hair was wet.
As I took one step at a time, unable to see my feet, I had an "aha" moment. Here was a window into the mythic experience of the Israelites crossing the Sea of Reeds out of slavery! The water is "parted" - temporarily - and passage across the sand bar is possible. But for how long? And how far is it, and how long will it take us? Who can see where we're headed? How do we move forward when we can't even see two steps in front of us? How to trust that this will be for the good?
Stepping into the unknown is scary. It is easier to stay in the world we know, even if we are enslaved by it.
Our ancient ancestors bequeathed to us a story of faith and trust in the midst of oppressive fear. How does an Exodus happen? One step at a time.
May this summer bring you the opportunity to take at least a few steps out into the unknown - and may you be transformed by the experience and come back to tell us all the story!
No one spoke. We were all concentrating on feeling our way forward in the dark. The salty air was so moist that our hair was wet.
As I took one step at a time, unable to see my feet, I had an "aha" moment. Here was a window into the mythic experience of the Israelites crossing the Sea of Reeds out of slavery! The water is "parted" - temporarily - and passage across the sand bar is possible. But for how long? And how far is it, and how long will it take us? Who can see where we're headed? How do we move forward when we can't even see two steps in front of us? How to trust that this will be for the good?
Stepping into the unknown is scary. It is easier to stay in the world we know, even if we are enslaved by it.
Our ancient ancestors bequeathed to us a story of faith and trust in the midst of oppressive fear. How does an Exodus happen? One step at a time.
May this summer bring you the opportunity to take at least a few steps out into the unknown - and may you be transformed by the experience and come back to tell us all the story!