In Honor of my favorite author, whom I do not know personally but defenitely will in heaven. That would be Ted Dekker. The man is an absolute and total genius with creative fiction, and one of his most incredible, Christ-evident catch-phrases comes from his Circle Trilogy. Dive Deep. Let us explore the meaning of that statement...
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Haunting whispers slithered from damp crevices in the jetty, where baby waves lapped, echoing up and out and to my ears, those haunting, fascinating whispers that were too faint to discern. The breath of the wind shoved waves shoreward, where they disappeared under the rocks, silent for only a moment, before exploding in dazzling showers of white and prism rainbows; they were like little canvases that appeared and dissipated in the space of a second, long enough for me to get only the barest glimpse of the fantastic painting, but falling back to the waters when I most wanted to see it. There was the long-drawn inhalation of the tide receding over a small sandy beach, followed by the thunderous sigh of the new water crashing down again to cover it. Crabs skittered along the drenched rocks. The sun never blinked. Sea birds sang to themselves high above. And I listened.
The day was trying to speak.
I had never heard the day before, but I had tried too many times to count. Day after day I would sit on my bench, closing my eyes to hear and opening them to see, struggling to attune to fleeting speeches of the day. I had come both at night and during the day. Both held different flavors, different dialects that were equally impossible to decipher, but I did like to think that I could just barely make out a few slurred syllables on good days. The night was always darker, always deeper, as if it was less of a discussion, and more of an interrogation. I would stare at the stars or the moon, let the pounding silence reign, vainly searching for the deep night’s whispered secrets. Days were nicer. They were more easily understandable, cheerier, and infinitely more satisfying.
But not at the moment.
No, at the moment, I got the sense that the day was trying to impress something upon me. It was like a nightmare in that I couldn’t reach the voice, couldn’t hear its suggestions - as if I was lost in a cavern and could just barely hear the voices of my party, but hadn’t the faintest idea where they were in the darkness. I opened my eyes. Maybe sight would aid me in my quest.
The bench I was seated upon creaked as I shifted my weight back, to lean. It was painted with a militaristic shade of brown, chipped where others had carved words or figures into the wood with pocketknives, or where the corrosives of the sea had eaten the wood over decades. And it creaked horribly. Before me laid the jetty, just a heap of jagged coral boulders and barnacle encrustations. There was one old, sea-beaten tree that sagged over the crystal sea, shading some concrete steps that descended into the shallows. There were only six or so steps, and they were very rough, formed by a flow of slimy concrete years ago; and people had drawn things in the steps. There were designs of colored seaglass, names and dates, and the faint outline of footprints stepping down into the water. They were the marks of others before me, who had sat on this bench or under the tree, listening to hear the day.
When the words first came, they were so loud that I was startled. Booming, reverberating through my mind and my heart, sealed by the slow churning of the day, sudden and mind-blowing. But perhaps just a fancy…
“I love you.”
My mouth was hanging open. I had just been spoken to! And not by the day, either. No, the day muttered philosophy and ambiguity to itself in secret, but this new voice had just screamed a loud truth – an absolute truth. In fact, the enormity of those new words cast the subtle voice of the day into confusion; perhaps the day didn’t speak at all, perhaps it was dead and I missed it, and thought I heard it speaking to me. I didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter anyway. Why explore the veiled fantasies of the day when there was something out there far deeper and larger and more personal than anything else?
And I couldn’t shake those words from my mind. They seemed to say everything that could be said. There was no point in analyzing it - it was too crazy – you just had to take it at face value and let it unfold itself inside you. What did love entail? Everything that led to good. Joy, contentment, a little pain, reunion, passion, bare truth, inexpressible closeness, all of it and more. Dear God, those three new words had just spoken more in one second than the day could in years of careful listening!
And then, with unreal swiftness, the voice rose again.
“Dive Deep.”
Again, such a simple statement with such an array of truth behind it. It spread from my mind to my heart and its meaning exploded in my chest. Dive Deep meant explore. Have a sense of adventure, search for glorious truths, push into the Love to experience the joys and passions of relationship. I was sure it meant so much more, but it was too otherworldly to express with human language or emotion. It was a metaphor so infinite, and yet so complete. But at the same time, it was also very literal. Dive Deep. What else could it mean?
A grin broke across my face. The bench squeaked as I stood to my feet. But the day’s whisperings were only faint behind the kinetic crackling of another world, sizzling with energy, throbbing, ready to explode at any moment. I descended the concrete steps without looking at them, treading on the efforts of those who had failed before me.
“Dive Deep.”
And then, without a glance behind, I vaulted, and plunged headfirst into the crystal waters.
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God has given our generation a gift. Suddenly Christians everywhere are jumping to the task, writing incredible fiction (Dekker), making blockbuster movies (Passion of the Christ), hitting the top music charts (David Crowder* Band), all of it and more. We have been presented with an IMMENSE opportunity to be in the world but not of it, as God's Word calls us to be. This is a cultural and spiritual time of revolution. We very well could be the last generation on this earth, oughtn't we make our mark for God while the lost still wander?
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http://www.teddekker.com/
