Tip of My Iceberg

Water is something we all need for survival. Our bodies are made mostly of water, as is our world.

But enjoying water is something completely different.

We’re in Colorado, where it’s drier and sublimely cooler. Where sweat doesn’t happen as easily and offensive odors don’t creep up as quickly.

Playing in water takes on a whole new perspective in the mountains.

With quite a few of the grands here, several of which are quite young, a water table on the balcony of our apartment made terrific sense.

Who doesn’t want to get soaked in 60-degree weather?

The adults were all dressed comfortably, some wrapped in blankets, some drinking coffee as we filled the table with enough water to douse anyone close by.

There was hesitancy at first. The breeze had picked up, and the water right out of the faucet here is considerably colder than what we get in Florida.

Once the first foray was made into the cold and wet, there was no stopping the kids.

Especially Ward.

He found great joy in flinging water all over everyone who sat in close quarters–it was a small balcony. He drenched himself quickly and didn’t seem to mind the cold. Some of the other kids played a little then took a break. Not quite as willing to brave the cold, they needed time to dry off and warm up.

Not Ward.

He played with reckless abandon. There was such joy in his giggles and laughs, especially when soaking himself. He never quit until his mom took him inside.

Being pulled away from what he enjoyed so thoroughly didn’t make him happy. He had been fully engaged, fully absorbed, totally involved.

How often do I choose to become that committed to anything? How often do I become so excited about something that nothing will stop me from following through?

Many people hesitate to go all in on anything. They hold back in case things don’t work out the way we want, not putting all our expectations on one outcome tends to be more of our bent.

We self-protect that way. Even in love we often hold back just a little. Not wanting to love more than we’re loved back. Unwilling to lose everything. Those who give their all with reckless abandon are often referred to as gamblers.

We were made to be fully loved, fully enjoyed.

God loves us that way. With pure reckless abandon. Not holding back, not requiring us to love Him as much. Not having to perform or be someone in particular to earn that love.

It’s not in God’s nature to hold back. He does nothing halfway. When He forgives, He forgives fully. When He loves, He loves freely and unconditionally. When He offers grace and mercy, He does so with incomprehensible lavishness.

I know my limitations. I’m very aware of my failures and weaknesses. To know that I’m loved with such completeness, such passion and commitment makes me someone special.

Just how Ward feels with his water table.

What would it mean to you to know you were loved so thoroughly?