Relections
along the way
written portraits of randy & his journey
Joshua 1:9 "Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."
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In the summer of 1973, I needed a job. I wasn’t picky. In fact, I was willing to do just about anything. I had returned home after spending a year away at Bible school. I needed to regroup, make money, and build up my savings. Through word of mouth, I heard that a local building contractor was hiring unskilled help for the summer. It paid fairly well, but the job site was 70 miles away. And, the job also involved some risk. Some would say, “The risk was significant”. But, I was young; game for most anything, and a bit naïve.  Similar Style Building The building was mostly made of steel, and it was to be an indoor ice skating/hockey facility. While the structure wasn't horribly high, it was high enough. As part of the job, I learned to "walk" steel I-beams. I inched forward, one foot carefully placed in front of the other. Speed was the least of my worries. Quality far surpassed quantity. As a “job requirement”, I learned a lot about balance and negotiating narrow walkways. I also learned to manage the risk by “paying a lot of attention to detail". Missteps tended to be painful, and serious. They had long-term consequences. And, were to be avoided.  Similar Style of Construction In the early phases of the construction, the span was long enough and high enough to experience the feeling of "swaying suspension". Two uprights, two crossbeams, and a gaggle of bolts (I hoped were tight) were all that supported me while perched on a beam waiting to "tie in" the adjoining crossbeams and bring some stability to the structure. “Perched and swaying” were very real sensations during this phase of the project. Wind and weather were also factors. The feeling of vulnerability was alive and well. While I would never attempt to be a tightrope walker, that summer gave me a wee bit of perspective regarding its perils, risks, and sensations. Now, whenever I hear the illustration of the tightrope walker, it resonates with me. It stirs memories, and reminds me of stuff. Maybe you have heard a rendition of the story before, too. The story that I have heard the most is attributed to Charles Blondin. He was a well-known French tightrope walker in the mid-1800s. And, he was particularly known for adding twists to his usual feat. He might carry someone on his back. Eat lunch while sitting on the rope. Or, push a wheelbarrow with someone in it. He was daring, confident, and drew large crowds.  Charles Blondin It is said that as he prepared to walk on the rope high above, he would often talk to the crowd first. He would shout, “Do you believe that I can walk across this span?” “Yes, absolutely”, fans would shout in return. “We have seen you do it before.” Someone would add. “We know that you can do it.” Then, Blondin would pause, “Do you believe I can do it while pushing a wheelbarrow across?” “Yes, yes, absolutely!” the crowds would cheer. He would continue, “Do you believe that I can do it with someone in the wheelbarrow?” “Yes!” the crowd would roar. Then he would simply ask, “Who trusts me enough to get in and go with me?” Usually, there was silence. Belief is not the same as trust. As I headed to Bible school in 1972, nine months before the construction job, the message behind “Tale of the Tightrope Walker” pinpointed my dilemma. It illustrated and summarized my approach to God and life as I launched into adulthood. When it came to God, there was a deep chasm in my life between belief and trust. I believed in God. I had made a commitment. I had prayed the sinner’s prayer. But, experientially it was mostly an intellectual or “head” experience. I was a second generation Christian. Culturally, it was all I knew. My parents believed and were committed, so I chose to believe too. I knew the correct behaviors, values, and beliefs. But still they were really my parents' beliefs that got transferred to me through some sort of familial osmosis. At best, I was a nominal believer - even while attending a Bible school. For the most part, I was motivated to believe because I wanted the benefit of fire insurance. If there was Hell, I certainly didn’t want to die and go there. So, why not believe? On a day-to-day basis, I didn’t think to trust God, or involve him. Not really! It was like I believed that airplanes can fly. I even went to the airport to watch, but I never got in one and went anywhere. I was a bystander. I didn’t mind watching and being around others who were engaged, but I certainly didn’t have a desire to get into God’s wheelbarrow. There was no particular reason for it. I wasn’t hostile. I just didn’t think I needed to. I was on the team. I liked what the team was doing. I went to team meetings. I was on the practice squad, and I warmed the bench. But, I wasn’t passionate about playing. I wasn’t really committed, except to attend on “game days”. I had no reason to "listen or pay attention to" the coach because, mostly, I was not engaged. I wore the uniform. I believed in the cause. But, I didn’t really participate. I had a "faith" that was mostly intellectual and cultural. It wasn't relational, or trusting. I tried to figure out life myself. I didn't try to trust God. And, he didn't really have my permission to direct my life for his eternal purposes. So, as I drifted into my second semester of Bible school – which started in January 1973, this was the condition of my 18 year-old heart.
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Randy CarrRandy is a life-purpose and legacy coach with a passion to help seniors be purposeful in retirement. He has a background in history, education, ministry, publishing, and crossing cultures. Randy's Story
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