Will the sun rise?

What assurance do we have that the sun will rise tomorrow? We say things like “I’m going to do this tomorrow” or “Let’s do this the next day”, as if we have some kind of formal agreement with the sun that it shall appear or with the next day that it shall arrive. If there’s one thing Philosophy has tried to teach me, is that we can never be undeniably certain about something. And you know what, I don’t completely disagree with it. I have my fair share of doubts. Every single day I’m plagued with them, from trivial things like the train coming on time, to doubts about myself and sometimes about my walk with God.

This season, I have this odd sense of fear that I can’t seem to explain to anyone. I find myself looking for ways to avoid reading my word and spending time with God. At first I thought it was laziness or just plain stubbornness. But deep inside, I knew there was more to it than meets the eye. Just like a sunrise, that is so breathtakingly beautiful to behold but painful and overwhelming to the eyes when experienced in its fulness. I was afraid of something beautiful, I feared being close to God. I remember listening to the song “Something Beautiful” by Need to Breathe and I felt like it illustrated much of what I was feeling, “In your ocean, I’m ankle deep. I feel the waves crashin’ on my feet. It’s like I know where I need to be. But I can’t figure out, yeah I can’t figure out”. It sounds ridiculous, but I was afraid of something beautiful. I fear that if I draw close to God, I’ll find that He isn’t there. Or sometimes I’m scared to even open my Bible because I know how loving and powerful He is, that I would not be able to sustain it.

The ocean, the beach… a place that I love and is so special to me. Many of the memorable and special moments of my life has taken place there. But I feel like a little child just standing fearfully at the edge of the water, amazed by the beauty of the ocean and the waves that adorn it. God is that ocean that I am afraid to dive into. Why? It’s simple, because you can’t dive into the water without getting completely wet. I can’t come so close to God without being changed, without being loved, without being forgiven, without being completely soaked in His presence. And you might be thinking how can I be afraid of those things? I don’t expect anyone to understand, because even I don’t sometimes and I’m not writing this in attempt to figure it all out. But I think a lot of this stems from my insecurities, self-doubt and regrets.

I recently stumbled upon the story of ‘The Fern and the Bamboo’ (feel free to search up the whole story). It’s about a man who began questioning his life. God responds to his dilemma through the analogy of a bamboo and a fern, two plants that He equally took care of. Yet the fern grew quickly while there was no evidence of growth for the bamboo. Looking at myself, I often felt disappointed… I see no great big branches or intricate canopies nor more fruits than the tree itself can hold. Like the man in the story, I felt like giving up. No one knows how many times I’ve wanted to quit and just run. Those around me, have seen me laugh and smile many times but no one knows that I’ve cried twice as much as that. I’ve felt like that bamboo countless times, no growth, no change, complete and utter nothing. But in the story, God tells the man that even when He saw no visible growth out of that bamboo, He did not cease to nurture it. And finally after years of futility, a small and seemingly insignificant growth takes place for the bamboo. But soon after that, the bamboo rose to over one hundred feet tall. When everybody thought nothing was happening, it was actually growing its roots. Unseen, hidden from the world was the real growth. I realised that in all my doubts and fears, God has been helping me grow roots. Not some fancy flower for the world to see, but roots that dig deep in the ground. Faith is the root…The foundation for all branches, fruits, leaves and trunk.

 

“He will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit”

- Jeremiah 17:8

 

Maybe it’s okay to be fearful of good things, afraid of diving into the ocean, that is God. If it weren’t the case, we’d have the whole world saved and heaven-bound. Perhaps it teaches me to value the presence of God and not to treat it as common. Nevertheless, we doubt, we fear, we withhold. For me it was that I seemed to see nothing good in myself. That I knew that God IS good, but was I? Did I deserve Him and all the beautiful things He gives me regardless of who I am? But little did I know, that in all my doubting, my roots expanded, my faith planted. How do I know this? Because if it weren’t for those roots, I would have quit ages ago, I wouldn’t be writing this right now.

Someone asked me what my ‘life song’ would be, a song that describes my life. And instantly I thought of ‘Faithful’ by Brooke Fraser. More often than not, God is silent in my life. I don’t wake up to bright neon signs and amplified sound of His direction and voice. But I guess the real test is knowing and believing that He is there regardless and to live like so.

Surely (as sure as we can be) as the sun will rise tomorrow… Doubts, fears, questions, struggles and pains will too. The verse above does not say that heat and drought will not come, but that the tree will be able to withstand all of its adversities. And most of that is not because of its leaves or branches, but because of the roots. Faith (and faith in God) is no security against storms, but perfect security IN storms (Clyde Gordon, paraphrased). Do we stretch out our hands because we know without a doubt that there is something within our arm’s reach, or is faith holding out our hands fearfully in hopes of touching God, and keeping it outstretched even when He doesn’t seem to be there.

And so, we can debate all day about the certainty of a sunrise or question my worthiness to behold God. But  I choose to place my faith not on the rising of the sun, but the maker of the sun itself. Not on the promise of another day but on the author of the next day and all the days to come. Worthy or unworthy, He makes the sun rise and allows me to live another day. And I want to live faithfully in all of those days, in both the good ones and in the bad ones.

There’s distance in the air and I cannot make it leave
I wave my arms’ round about me and blow with all my might
I cannot sense you close, though I know you’re always here
But the comfort of you near is what I long for

When I can’t feel you, I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can’t hear you, I know you still hear everyword I pray
And I want you more than I want to live another day
And as I wait for you maybe I’m made more faithful

All the folly of the past, though I know it is undone
I still feel the guilty one, still trying to make it right
So I whisper soft your name, let it roll around my tounge,
knowing you’re the only one who knows me
You know me

Show me how I should live this
Show me where I should walk
I count this world as loss to me
You are all I want
You are all I want

Faithful – Brooke Fraser