[Kris Camealy is very cheerful on Twitter. Maybe it’s because she takes a week off the internet every month, a practice I am sort of desperate to imitate. I was thrilled when she agreed to contribute a guest post for Story Warren. She is a wife, mom, and the author of Holey, Wholly, Holy: A Lenten Journey of Refinement. She blogs here and cheerfully declares, “I love Jesus. I love people. I love pointing people to Jesus.” Thanks, Kris. -Sam]
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She comes up gasping, sputtering and choking, bathwater spraying out of her mouth. I run to her with a towel, pulling her up by her slippery armpits, out of the tub. This is nothing new here. Despite our sternest insistence that she not put her face into the dirty bathwater, she repeats this activity somewhat relentlessly. Every time I read the warnings about small children drowning in practically, puddle-amounts of water, I recognize how this is actually possible.
However, tonight, she isn’t drowning (thank God) but merely trying to swim as fish do, including, apparently, aquatic respiration. Sigh. With her towel-toga wrapped tightly around her, I haul her dripping, to her room and begin the dry her off. Her green eyes, rimmed red from coughing.
What were you doing? I question her. You know you’re not supposed to do that, you CAN’T Breathe underwater.
Her brows furrow and she answers, with all seriousness, Well how come sharks can breathe underwater?
Is she serious?
I glance at my husband, we both shake our heads in unison, and I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to laugh about the fact that my 3 year old doesn’t understand the differences between herself and a shark, or if I ought to be concerned about the apparent confusion.
Have I not been clear about the fact that we are humans, rather than fish? My homeschooling abilities are suddenly looking utterly lame. Perhaps the end measure of success will be less about how well my children can remember world history, grammar, or math, and more about whether or not they understand that they are in fact, created in the image of God, as a human.
I make a mental note to re-read her the Creation story.
Sharks were designed by God to breathe underwater. I remind her (because I am certain we’ve discussed this before). Sharks have gills to filter oxygen out of the water. You, on the other hand, were designed to breathe only air. You, sweet thing, have no gills.
She is unhappy about her human limitations, and while I can see how aquatic respiration would be a cool superpower, I feel confident that our human abilities far outweigh anything a shark can do. Yes–I am absolutely certain.
Later, after my little fish is long in bed, I think about our conversation. The absurdity of it strikes me as both funny and endearing. Children’s imaginations are so much freer than most of ours. For them, the line between reality and imaginary is blurred–hazy with possibilities that as grown-ups, we are all too quick to shout down–what, with all of our wisdom and worldly knowledge.
We’ve grown so good at erecting fences between the possible and impossible. We see what is real and concrete, while the hood of experience limits our vision into the mysterious realm of, with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).
Surely this word doesn’t mean that God will affix us with gills, but then again, Jonah lived three days in the belly of a fish.
What happens when we allow ourselves to imagine beyond what seams reasonably possible? What could we do, if we believed that with God, all things are in fact possible? Might our prayers become more absurd to humans but more powerful in the heavenly realms? Might we see miracles on a grander scale not only because they are already happening, but because we believe that God makes a habit of performing impossible tasks–not because He must–but simply because He can (Jeremiah 32:17).
Scripture tells us wild tales of talking donkeys, and dead men rising. Bread falls from heaven and entire seas split wide, allowing passage across dry land. Bones gather across a desert valley enfleshed and breathing–a whole army. Fisherman’s nets bulge when just moments before they sat empty. One boy feeds 5000 from only his small lunch. These are the well known impossibles made possible, but there are more. We all carry stories with us of the unexplained. Still, we often try to rip the miraculous from them, with our grow-up reasoning and our failure to remember that with God, all things are possible.
Jesus tells us to have faith like a child, and what is faith but the belief in the unseen–the seemingly impossible. My children expand my own imagination with their amazing belief that anything is possible. My faith widens when I recall the miracles of God. Tumor’s that disappear without a trace. The impossibly lost, suddenly recovered out of nowhere. With God, all things are possible.
May we believe as children, may our reality be blurred just enough to believe that God is the God who works wonders, just as it says in Psalm 77:14
You are the God who works wonders…
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Featured images cut from Jonah Leaving the Whale by Jan Brueghel the Elder, (1600)
- On Purpose: Sharing True Identity With Our Kids - August 26, 2013
- Believing In The Possible Impossible - June 26, 2013
Um, just WOW!! Sometimes I wish I was a kid again with an active imagination and no limitations! (and that I didn’t squelch my kids’ creativity all the time with my realism) Thank you for the reminder that my God is a God of miracles!!
I am glad you were encouraged, Julie. I also agonize about the times I have squelched my children’s creativity and imagination. It is a continual learning process for me as a parent, to return to that place of fearless belief in the impossible.
What could we do if we believed with God all things are possible? Great question. I’m thankful you asked it and reminded me of the wonder that resides in the power of the living God. Our kids teach us well don’t they? Lovely Kris.
Yes, the wonder, right? God is so wonder-full and in the times when I really deep down believe that, when I stake everything on this truth, my faith thrives. it is when I lose my own imagination that I feel my faith wither. Thanks, Shelly.
I fight those human limitations so often, too. Perhaps not in aquatic respiration, but in the demands I place on myself to be super-human.
Allowing myself to settle down into my humanity (and humility) is a practice that has taken me far more than my toddler-hood to learn. At least I can say now that when I find myself weary and heavy laden (or sputtering with a nose full of bath water – whatever) that I know Who to look to for rest.
Great write, Kris. Wow! You’ve had a busy week! 🙂
It has been a busy week! I am grateful for the various places I have been blessed to hang out. and yes, I think knowing Who to look for, for rest is more important than knowing where. God is such a filling place to be.
Wow! What, indeed, would life be like if we lived as though with God all things (not just some, reasonable, things) are possible? Great post!
Yes, Kim, to learn to believe in the unbelievable. I think Michael Card sang a beautiful song about this very thing. May we become more foolish in the eyes of the world, as our faith expands to fully expect to SEE the impossible made possible.
Thank you for this…yet another reason we are told we should have faith like children–so we can believe the impossible!
Indeed! thanks, Mandy!
Oh, yes. I’ve become shamefully skilled in constructing fences between the possible and the impossible. I wonder sometimes whether Abba shakes His head at my feeble attempts to place His glory into a box? Perhaps today’s motto should be “some disassembly required”. Thank you for another lovely read, my friend.
I love that, Jana. “Some disassembly required”. It turns out, I’m a better architect than I ever imagined–and this I’m afraid is not a gift. Praying we’d find our delight and joy in the deconstruction of our various limitations.
ohmygosh, this is so good. so very good, my friend! I loved this to pieces. I smiled and laughed and even choked up, as I totally get this in so many ways. #GreatWrite #GoodWord
Bless you, Amy. Your enthusiasm and encouragement are good medicine for me.
I love this… We do live in an upside down kingdom… To mature… to grow up is to become more like a child… That alone is miraculous … A bit like breathing under water…. God does work wonders indeed… Blessing to you ~
Ro, I just had this image pop into mind–of us, breathing in the Living Water. Just sucking it right up, and rather than sputtering on it, finding the breathing to be easier, less labored, more effective even. In some ways, I suppose we were actually designed to breathe in water–;)
Thank you, Kris. This is a wonderful reminder of the reality behind our blindness. The God who works wonders.
Thanks for inviting me to share here, Sam. I need the reminder as much as anyone. Thankfully, I have 4 kids who help me in this area. God is always amazing.
I can so relate to this. My 3-year-old son seems to believe he is at least part fish. He swims underwater with his eyes wide open. I snapped these underwater pictures recently and I laughed about his wide-open eyes. It doesn’t phase him. You’re right, children are freer than us adults. We box in life; they live with eyes wide open, noticing and believing in the ordinarily extraordinary wonder surrounding them. Thank you for your beautiful words that remind me of God’s goodness.
Thanks for reading, Kristin. I am so glad you were encouraged. I bet those photos are super cute 😉
Kris! A Story Warren post! I’m so happy for you. And so happy about these words you wrote here. Yes, friend, yes–let’s believe God is as big and limitless and surprising as the Bible paints Him to be. Let’s believe He can–and does–do immeasurable more than all we can ask or even imagine. Let’s try to imagine that, shall we? Thanks for these good words, for the reminder to ask for the impossible and then wait with thanks to see what God will do with our boldness.
“Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace..”
Kimberlee! I know, right? 🙂 I am so grateful to Sam for the invitation to share in this beautiful space. Joining with you in praying and believing and watching for the impossible made possible. Boldly standing at the throne with you–
Kris, I loved this. This post is yet another echo of what I have been reading all week – with God ALL things are possible – I am constantly reminded how small my prayers are in comparision to what God can do – oh to have the wisdom of a child.
Emma, yes, I have been hearing this a lot in my head and heart this week too. Praying big, specific, impossible prayers with you, my friend. 🙂