Shooting God in the Face.

You step up to the marker. You have done this many times before, but all of the past attempts are forgotten. All that is left is you, your bow, your arrow, and the target. In other imagination lands you might have a gun or a spear or an axe… the idea being you have something to aim, and a target to hit.

You slow your breathing. You thnk about the wind and how your arm always pulls to the left for some reason, so you weight it a little to the right. You breathe in, smelling the trees and the fire close by. You pull back, and you release or shoot or… whatever.

In ten pin bowling after releasing the ball I always walk sideways a little, as if seeing the ball from the side helps it hit all the pins down. So, similarly, in the split second after releasing your arrow at the target your body goes into the instinctive “Please please please please please please” mode. Hoping the target to be hit. Wishing the arrow towards the goal because now you have no influence over it.

The arrow hits… the ground… twenty metres away from the target. How did this happen? You aimed for the target. You’ve hit the target before, why didn’t you hit it this time as well?

At that stage you have two main options. You can try again. Aim again. Shoot again. Get closer next time. Or even hit the targets bullseye. OR you could give up. or not even care about aiming next time, just shoot haphazardly into the wind.

‘If I’m not going to hit the target, who cares if i even try?’

If we are called to be holy as God is holy, to love as God loves, it comes with it a jaw-droppingly hard task.

I have to do WHAT?

God calls us to the amazing double ideal of being AND doing. We aren’t called to just sit in his sweet presence. and we aren’t called just to serve people and DO things. We are called to be in his love AND aim for the nations.

We are called to aim true at the target even if we sometimes miss. We are also called to accept Gods forgiveness and grace when we miss so that we can aim again. Our missing shouldn’t overwhelm us to stop aiming. and our focused shooting shouldn’t blind us to the cheers from the sideline of our loving father.

Aim small miss small. Get up and try again.

*taken from a week spent with an amazing Australian man called Darryl, who explained things in Norwegian because their language makes things cooler.

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