COURAGE TO WALK (ON WATER) Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.
We men try to construct manageable lives with some security and predictability to maintain the illusion that we are in control. We desire to stay in the boat of our making because it is convenient, safe, and warm. And then something happens — like the tragedy of September 11, 2001 — that shakes everything up. And we are left with the options to fear the events of this world or to focus on the Savior.
Don’t you want to be like Peter? Don’t you want to walk on water, look beyond the tragedy, move past the fear? We have to start by getting out of the boat. And we have to focus on the Savior. Only then do we have the courage to take the first step.
When we focus on the Savior, we are given courage. Courage is not the absence of fear but the ability to walk on in spite of it. Courage is the muscle of character that flexes to give individuals, families, and nations strength to continue in the midst of overwhelming odds.
Courage kept firefighters and rescue workers searching for bodies in the wreckage of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. It gave federal agents the resolve to apprehend possible assassins. It enabled our military personnel to face a cowardly enemy that had no regard for human life. It was the strength that surfaced in victims’ families to face another day without their loved ones.
It is impossible to survive the storms and calamities of life without courage. It is the coat of character that we wear into the storm. Exterior supports may temporarily sustain us, but only inward character creates courage.
Not one of my better missives or even near to good. But try to enjoy. All CONSTRUCTIVE criticism welcome.
August comes from the Latin word augustus, meaning “consecrated” or “venerable,” which in turn is related to the Latin augur, meaning “consecrated by augury” or “auspicious.” In 8 B.C. the Roman Senate honored Augustus Caesar, the first Roman emperor, by changing the name of their month Sextilis to Augustus
August by nature, he strode the palace floors.
Revered by all, feared by most, yet sad beyond his strength.
Ruler of the known world but not of his own.
Troubled and tormented by fear and guilt.
About which he knew not either why or how.
His problematic mind anathematic to his own.
In dreams he saw only what he dreaded.
The gods of Rome were powerless to abate.
What power can come from him who is not there.
Sacrifices to your empty deities bring no healing.
Waxing moons supposedly bring spiritual hope,
Waning again like unrequited love on a distant shore,
White sand running through your fingers like the days of life.
No hope was found, no pity lost on mortal man.
Jupiter, supreme ruler of the gods, Juno his queen,
“Surely I am a god, does not Rome worship me?”
“Woe to you Minerva and Neptune, fake deities of Rome”
“Venus and Mars, you are planets not gods like me.”
“Apollo, son of Jupiter, loose your arrow and slay your father,
Thought he does not exist, but then, nor you.”
And so he curses every useless god he knows in hope of finding peace.
But no, each non-existent deity curses him back in incredulity.
How dare he say we don’t endure, just because we ……………..