VL - Issue 15 - February 2015

Nate Miller is the director of In His
Wakes. He lives in Bend, Oregon, with
his wife, Ivy. If you are interested in
learning more about In His Wakes, visit
www.inhiswakes.com.
by Nate Miller
“God has not
given us a spirit
of fear and
timidity, but
of power.”
2 Timothy 1:7
Oftentimes I have asked the Lord to give me all
He has for me. I am increasingly aware, however,
that I may not fully understand what I’m asking.
Do I really want all the Lord has for me? All of
His power? Do I even understand what that means
and how it could radically change my life? If God
gave me all, could I handle it? Am I willing to take
the risk?
I was considering this question recently, when
the Lord reminded me of a surfing experience I’d
once had. God knew He could get my attention
through this extreme sport, and He brought to light
a lesson in terms I could understand.
As a young adult, I led an interesting lifestyle.
I switched back and forth several times between
attending college and living the life of a surf and
ski bum in Southern California. I am part of an elite
group with bragging rights of snow skiing, water
skiing, and surfing, all in one 24-hour period. (I use
the term “elite” very loosely.) This lifestyle is why it
took me eight years to finish four years of college!
One morning I heard that a large swell was
approaching the shore at a favorite surfing spot.
Without delay, I grabbed my board and made my
way to the beach. As I arrived, I could hear the
roar of huge waves off in the distance. Although I
couldn’t see the waves yet, there was no question
this experience was going to be incredible. After a
quarter-mile walk to the beach, my expectations
were confirmed.
I stood on the sand and surveyed the area,
taking note of the wide range of people groups
present that morning. There were those who were
completely satisfied with sitting on the shore,
sunning themselves, and watching the action from a
distance. There were some who had waded out into
the water, venturing a small distance from shore.
They stayed close enough, however, to keep their
feet securely on the ground. Others had paddled
their boards out into the water and were catching a
few small waves.
And then there was the final group—the one I
wanted to be a part of. These maniacs had thrown
caution to the wind and headed out into the deep
where the waves swelled. For this group, it was
all or nothing. They were willing to take risks to
experience all they could, doing the very thing they
loved.
When I entered the water, I would have some
decisions to make. How much of those waves did
I want? How deep was I willing to go? How much
risk was I willing to take?
My answer, I thought to myself, was to go big, but
not go all big. I know that sounds weird, but here’s
what I meant. I wanted to experience the power of
those waves, but I still wanted to remain in control.
I guess you could say I wanted to stay…well…safe.
Going all big would require me to give it all up and
step into a realm of the unknown.
I grabbed my board and propelled myself toward
the waves. It wasn’t long before I found myself in
a precarious position. It was quite obvious that
putting myself in the midst of the big waves had
brought risk. That control I’d hoped to maintain?
Well, it was gone with the first wave!
Waves come in sets, and each wave in a set
varies in size, power, and frequency. While surfing
a large surf, the one thing a person doesn’t want
to do is get “caught inside.” Being caught inside
means that the surfer finds himself within a wave
set where subsequent waves, often much larger
than the previous waves, can break on top of him.
Now don’t think for one minute that water is soft
and painless. Those huge waves contain such power
and force that they have the potential to break not
only the surfer’s board, but the surfer as well. Not to
mention, they can take him straight to the bottom
of the ocean!
Although I’d tried hard not to go all big, I found
myself facing a wave set no doubt full of risk.
Knowing those waves had the potential to crush
me, I began to paddle to deeper water as fast as I
could, so that the waves wouldn’t break on the surf
and on top of me.
With arms on fire, I punched through the crest of
a wave just as it broke over top of me. I wiped the
water from my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief,
only to face a second, larger wave. I cleared it—
barely—only to be swallowed up by a third wave.
I bounced off the bottom of the ocean a few times,
and I remember feeling a bit lonely. There weren’t
many people around me. Either they had been taken
out by the previous waves and were headed back to
shore, totally defeated by a wave monster, or they
had positioned themselves perfectly and ridden the
powerful wave.
My loneliness was quickly interrupted as I stared
into the largest wave I had ever seen. I had to make
a quick decision. Should I ride this incredible wave
and work with the amazing power in it? Or should
I play it safe and let it roll right under me? After it
broke, I could paddle closer to shore and ride some
safer, smaller waves; waves with less power and
fewer risks.
Well, for me, the choice was a no-brainer. It
was time to go big, to throw caution to the wind.
I paddled as hard as I could and jumped to my feet.
Suddenly, I was up—riding the largest wave of
my life. My heart pounded hard within my chest as
I experienced the exhilaration of flowing with that
much power. Being able to maneuver within that
power was amazing, like a supernatural experience.
I could hear the whistles and hoots from all the other
groups—the small-wave riders, the wave jumpers,
and even the beach dwellers. It was incredible.
As God reminded me of this experience, He
showed me that a wide range of groups exist in the
Christian community too. Some are content to stay
on the beach. They watch from a distance, unwilling
to get wet. They are comfortable and quite often
the very group that sits judging and criticizing those
who are tossing about in the water. Unfortunately,
the body of Christ is filled with people on the beach.
The beach is a very crowded place.
Then there are those who have stepped out into
the water, but they have stopped just a few feet
from shore. They’re wet, but they have kept their
feet securely rooted in the sand to ensure they
won’t look foolish being knocked over by a wave.
Some of the church ventures out a bit further
than that previous group. They realize there is more
to experience, and they begin to test the waters and
ride some waves. But they don’t go out far enough
to risk losing control. They fear what might happen if
they move past what they can see with their natural
eyes and understand with their natural minds.
continued on page 26
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