watershed moments by gari meacham sampler

7/27/2019 Watershed Moments by Gari Meacham Sampler

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ZONDERVAN

Watershed MomentsCopyright 2013 by Gari Meacham

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Meacham, Gari.Watershed moments : holy markers that change our lives for good /

Gari Meacham.

pages cm

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-0-310-30866-9 (softcover : alk. paper)

1. Life change events Religious aspects Christianity. 2. Adjustment

(Psychology) Religious aspects Christianity. 3. Change (Psychology) Religious

aspects Christianity. 4. Change Religious aspects Christianity. I. Title.

BV4509.5 . M375 2013

248.8'6 dc23 2013012511

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CONTENTS

Ac knowledgments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Chapter 1:Points of No Return . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

PART ONE: THE WATERSHED OF CHANGE

Chapter 2:Shifting Paths . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23

Chapter 3:Hiding in Caves . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30

PART TWO: THE WATERSHED OF AWARENESS

Chapter 4:Unraveling Knots of Dysfunction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51

Chapter 5:Love Like a Bee Sting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63

PART THREE: THE WATERSHED OF REBUILDING

Chapter 6:Visionaries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81

Chapter 7:Brick by Brick . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98

PART FOUR: THE WATERSHED OF CONTROL

Chapter 8:Trying to Be King . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113

Chapter 9:Inf luence, Not Control . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125

PART FIVE: THE WATERSHED OF APPROVAL

Chapter 10:The Pressure to Please . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137

Chapter 11:Love People but Please God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146


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PART SIX: THE WATERSHED OF OVERCOMING

Chapter 12:When Good Dances with Evil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 161

Chapter 13:Maturitys Prize Surrender . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171

PART SEVEN: THE WATERSHED OF BELIEF

Chapter 14:God-Movements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179

Chapter 15:Time to Conquer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190

A Note fro m Gari . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200

Questions for Discussion and Ref lection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201

Notes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207


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11

1

POINTS OF

NO R ETUR N

he night beore I gave birth to our third child, I paced back and orth

across the blackened pebbles o our driveway. My husband had taken

our our- and three-year-old daughters to the unexpected uneral o

his mom on the West Coast. With a travel advisory on my late preg-

nancy, I remained at our temporary home in New Jersey to prepare or

our third Cesarean birth. his child was a son, and instead o being

excited to view his sweet ace the next morning, or eeling anxious that

my husband could be delayed in his light plans and not make it home

in time with our two little lambs, I paced the driveway, muttering thesame line over and over to a aithul riend who spent the evening

comorting me: Why have I done this to mysel again? I know exactly

what to expect, and I chose to do this a third time!

I was lamenting the pain I knew was inevitable the transition

I eared would sling me into chaos. Ater some early use o my deep

breathing techniques meant or labor, I inally whispered, his is a

point o no return. heres no going back. I have to go orward.Whats embarrassing about this point o no return is that I have

aced many challenging moments that ar surpass childbirth suo-

cating moments, perplexing moments, moments that let me begging

God to show me his providence.


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12 WATERSHE D MOMENTS

Our lives are deined by such moments. Some moments pass like

the licker o a winking eye you barely know theyve passed until

your eye has closed and reopened, ready or its next blink. Other

moments leave you marked decidedly dierent rom beore.

Some moments are laced in glory, joyously happy and giddy in

their birth the moment a man asks a woman to be his bride, the

moment you accomplish a goal that seemed impossible, the moment

you surrender to God, who beckons you.

Others are tinted with a haze that lits like og once we accepttheir presence a moment that disappoints, a moment that inuses

ear, a moment when we raise our hands in conusion. hese are the

watershed moments o our lives the moments God uses to mark us,

move us, and alter us or good.

I W

A watershed moment is a turning point brought on by circumstances

that stop us in our tracks. Some call it an epiphany. A moment when

everything changes. A point in time when nothing will ever be the

same. Like a compass that provides direction, these are the moments

that move us to new ways o thinking, relating, discerning, and accept-

ing lies challenges.In the irst part o this book, I share how God uses watershed

moments o change, awareness, and restoration to groom us or uture

glory. Not the kind o glory that spouts praise and accolades or tasks

weve accomplished, but glory that wells up when maturity is having

its way.

When I was a kid, I loved the thought o becoming mature. Matu-

rity meant I could stay up late, watch dierent types o shows, eatwhat I wanted, and push the boundaries o a curew. But I seldom hear

adults begging to mature. We want to stay youthul, ree rom respon-

sibility, and comortably detached. he truth is, without moments that

sculpt the clay o maturity in our lives, we remain ineective blobs


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POINTS OF NO RETURN 13

pleading or purpose. Watershed moments o change, awareness, and

restoration shape us so God can lovingly transorm us.

Next well look at the watershed moments that loosen our need

or control and approval. Without these moments, our grip on lie is

so tight that our knuckles may pop. I have to laugh at the ways I think

I manage my lie, ways that must provide God with his air share o

entertainment.

I remember hearing a man tell a story that explains this perectly.

In the midst o pain and conusion at his circumstances, he went outto the wooded area behind his house to take a walk. While he strolled

under the pine trees, he began to eel a release o tension as he lited

his hands in praise. Suddenly, a small bird landed in his outstretched

hands. It literally sat there, peaceully perched in his hands. he

man was stunned and instantly shouted to the Lord that this was his

miracle the moment hed been waiting or when everything murky

became clear. Beore he inished his sentence, the bird relieved him-

sel all over the mans outstretched hands! At irst he was appalled,

but then began to laugh as he realized how little control we have over

anything even the moments we think weve igured out.

Finally well delve into the watershed moments that empower us to

ace evil. Evil wears many masks, and as we pull away the scary images

that pin us down in ear, were ree to experience a new kind o water-shed the watershed o belie. hese are the moments o reckoning in

which we march and conquer that which has or too long conquered us.

How can such a word deine the essence o the moments that

unravel and restore us? How can a watershed moment lead us to the

brink o what weve been and create a bridge to what well become? Im

both ascinated by this word and inspired by it because God is at the

helm o our watersheds, using precise moments to mark momentoustransitions and upheavals that take us rom one point in our lives to

the next.

Even history is deined by the watershed moments that help carve

out its destiny. I was surprised by the conclusions o an article called


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Top 10 Watershed Moments in History. Heres how the scholars ranked

the watershed moments that changed the planet:

#10 he Russian Revolution

#9 Invention o the Watt steam engine

#8 Assassination o Archduke Ferdinand Francis

#7 Black Plague

#6 Storming o the Bastille

#5 Vaccine or smallpox

#4 Invention o the printing press

#3 Protestant Reormation

#2 Berlin Conerence

#1 Birth o Jesus o Nazareth

According to this article, the inluence Jesus has had on the lives

o people throughout history has never been surpassed. Christianity

has revolutionized the world, changing how people think and live.

No other person has had a greater eect on world history than Jesus

Christ.1

At irst I was impressed with this number one ranking. Ater being

married to a major league baseball player and coach or over thirty

years, I love to march around with a big oam inger on my hand and

point out, Were number one!But then I whispered two words.

Big deal, I thought. Seriously big deal. Who cares i Jesus gets

good marks or transorming history i we dont allow him to transorm

us? In the big picture, its not going to matter that people respect Jesus;

it only matters i they love and accept him. He is the ultimate Water-

shed, the brilliant turning point that leaves no lie the same.

Last night, as I crawled into bed, I wondered how I could write abook on a topic as important as the moments that change us and

my emotions had a ield day. It was then that the simple words o my

husband, Bobby, penetrated the og that had settled over me.

You know what? he said as he turned over to ace me. o me,


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watershed moments are the moments we encounter God. We hear

rom him, sense his presence, or are impacted by a truth he makes

known. Dont try to make it more complicated than it is. How I love

the simple wisdom o my sports-minded man. Gods words, his pres-

ence, and his truth change the moments o our lives.

I realize that many o you reading this may sigh like I used to when

I wanted to hear rom God but wasnt sure I ever really had. Let me

encourage you, riends you willhave your moments. God willbring

his watersheds. hey may come in the orm o unexpected blessingsor circumstances, but they will come.

Years ago, I read the story o a cab driver (now a highly acclaimed

author) who experienced a watershed moment that let him prooundly

changed. His watershed didnt come in the orm o loud lessons or tri-

umphant victories, but rather in the tender hug o a lonely woman.

Tere was a time in my lie twenty years ago when I was drivinga cab or a living. It was a cowboys lie, a gamblers lie, a lie or

someone who wanted no boss . . .

What I didnt count on when I took the job was that it was

also a ministry. Because I drove the night shit, the car became a

rolling conessional. Passengers would climb in, sit behind me in

total darkness and anonymity, and tell me o their lives . . .

In those hours, I encountered people whose lives amazed me,ennobled me, made me laugh, and made me weep. And none o

those lives touched me more than that o a woman I picked up

late on a warm August night.

I was responding to a call rom a small brick ourplex in a

quiet part o town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some

partyers, or someone who had just had a ight with a lover . . .

When I arrived at the address, the building was dark except or a

single light in a ground-loor window. Under these circumstances,

many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a short minute,

and then drive away. oo many bad possibilities awaited a driver

who went up to a darkened building at two-thirty in the morning.


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But I had seen too many people trapped in a lie o poverty

who depended on the cab as their only means o transportation.

Unless a situation smelled o danger, I always went to the door

to try to ind a passenger. It might, I reasoned, be someone who

needed my assistance . . .

So I walked to the door and knocked.

Just a minute, answered a rail, elderly voice . . .

Ater a long pause, the door opened. A small woman, some-

where in her eighties, stood beore me. She was wearing a printdress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it . . . By her side was

a small nylon suitcase . . .

Would you carry my bag to the car? she asked . . .

I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the wom-

an. She took my arm, and we walked slowly toward the curb. She

kept thanking me or my kindness . . .

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked,Could you drive through downtown?

Its not the shortest way, I answered.

Oh, I dont mind, she said. Im in no hurry. Im on my way

to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

I dont have any amily let, she continued. he doctor said

I should go there. He says I dont have very long.I quietly reached over and shut o the meter. What route

would you like me to go?

For the next two hours we drove through the city. She

showed me the building where she had once worked as an ele-

vator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she

and her husband had lived when they had irst been married.

She made me pull up in ront o a urniture warehouse that had

once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she would have me slow down in ront o a particu-

lar building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness,

saying nothing.


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As the irst hint o sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly

said, Im tired. Lets go now.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a

low building, like a small convalescent home, with a tar driveway

that passed under a portico. wo orderlies came out to the cab as

soon as we pulled up . . .

How much do I owe you? she asked, reaching into her purse.

Nothing, I said.

You have to make a living, she answered.here are other passengers, I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent over and gave her a hug. She

held on to me tightly. You gave an old woman a little moment o

joy, she said. hank you.

here was nothing more to say. I squeezed her hand once,

then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me I could hear

the door shut. It was the sound o the closing o a lie.I did not pick up any more passengers that shit. I drove aim-

lessly, lost in thought. For the remainder o that day, I could

hardly talk. What i that woman had gotten a driver who had

been angry or abusive or impatient to end his shit? What i I had

reused to take the run or had honked once, then driven away . . . ?

We are so conditioned to think that our lives revolve around

great moments. But great moments ofen catch us unawares. Whenthat woman hugged me and said that I had brought her a moment

o joy, it was possible to believe that I had been placed on earth or

the sole purpose o providing her with that last ride. I do not think

that I have done anything in my lie that was any more important.2

In the dark hours o a routine night, this cab driver experienced a

watershed moment a great moment that caught him unaware, leav-ing the ragrance o his lie entwined with another in a deep pool o

hope. A true watershed isnt to be hoarded; rather, it is to be shared, to

spread its git o insight rom our lie to the lives o those around us.

o spill onto another lie the clarity that has been spilled onto ours.


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M O M

I hate missing out on things. You know, special events, sales, or gath-

erings about which people rave and say, You really should have been

there! I want my senses alert and my spirit sharp so I dont drive by

watershed moments in my haste to get somewhere.

What causes us to miss out on lies deining moments? Why do

we skip right past those precious seconds that can change us orever?

I believe the answer lies in a tangle o nots. Oten, were not engaging,not risking, not listening, or not loving. But take heart, because any-

thing were not doing leaves room or what we can do.

o engage God means were absorbed with his character and the

character o his people. Its hard to be absorbing, however, i you ear

getting wet. o engage God means were engrossed, involved in his

living word and purposes here on earth. he essence o a watershed

experience is looking at risk and assessing the damage, like this: I

can be sae and ignore my desire or lie-changing moments, we

might think, or I can risk comort and listen or the melody o love

to inspire me.

When I irst began to explore the word watershed, I was with

women rom my church in Houston. A group o about a thousand

women met on Monday nights to try to squeeze the meaning out othe moments that change us. I picked the word watershedor our title

with very little thought given to its deinition, but once we got started,

I realized the meaning o this word was painting our gatherings with a

color once beige but now dazzling white. Described as a critical turning

point a point rom which you cant turn back I knew we were on

to something that would leave its mark long ater we inished the study.

In order to remind us to look or our moments, I bought thou-sands o silver and gold rings rom the wedding section o Hobby

Lobby. We placed them in plastic champagne glasses and set them

around our gathering spot so women could grab them and twirl them

on their ingers. he rings were a symbol to cause us to pause and


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take note o our expectant hope that wed see God move and that wed

experience our watershed moments.

Many months later, Im still hearing stories about womens

moments and the rings we wore to remind us to look or them, but

one young womans story leaves me breathless.

Lauren shared, I was raised in a wonderul home with parents

who loved each other and loved God. I invited Jesus into my lie at an

early age, but when I was in elementary school, I was the victim o a

sexual assault by a neighborhood riend. At such a tender age I didntunderstand what happened and that it wasnt my ault and by junior

high and high school, I was making every bad choice imaginable to

numb my pain. I there was a sinul act or addiction I was either doing

it or had a riend who was.

When my eighteenth birthday arrived, I reached a point o bot-

toming out, and remember lying in my bed, saying, God, i youre

truly real, let me die. heres no hope or me. Ill always be a disgrace

to you. he next morning, I woke up alive disappointed and plum-

meting urther into despair.

During spring break o my senior year, Mom and I took a trip

to New York City to celebrate graduation, but once I got there I could

barely move I was so sick and overcome with atigue. Dad met us at

a New York City hospital in time to hear a verdict pronounced in theheavy Russian accent o a doctor we barely knew. You have leukemia,

he said. We learned that what would normally be a 3 percent leukemia

marker in someones bone marrow was 93 percent in mine.

My irst round o chemo let me in ICU, as my kidneys shut down

rom the treatment. When I regained consciousness, I opened my eyes

and saw a childhood riend, Rebecca, sitting across rom me. She had

been diagnosed almost a year beore with a rare cancer, and there shesat, smiling, with tiny sprays o hair growing into the bald spots let

rom her treatments. Lauren, she said, everythings going to be ine.

Im praying or you, and so are many others.

he next months were a blur o complications, leaving me with two


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emergency brain surgeries, pneumonia, and pancreatitis, and without

my eyesight legally blind. Because o my age, I was oten treated on

the pediatrics loor, where I got close to many amilies and their kids.

During the months ollowing my treatment, I attended the unerals o

three beautiul children, as well as that o my precious riend Rebecca.

I knew I needed to take my brokenness and surrender it to God.

I never dreamed hed place me in a position o leadership with women,

helping them see his goodness, no matter the circumstance but ater

all Id been through, I sensed women would listen. Pain is good tohave on your rsum when you teach women about God, because its

through pain that we become authentic and I was about as authentic

as you can get.

Prior to this, I had little time to think about a man, let alone

romance, but soon my heart was awakened to the hope or a relation-

ship with someone I could share my lie with. I was introduced to a

man named Clay, but I kept trying to set him up with my best riend

beore realizing he was the man Ihoped or!

he ollowing spring I was a small group leader or a beautiul

group o women studying watershed moments. Rings were handed out,

and we were told they were to remind us to pray or our moments

moments that would lead us to never again be the same. I remember

putting mine on and praying, Lord, this ring will not leave my ingeruntil I receive my watershed. wo weeks ater the study ended, the

ring was removed rom my inger and replaced with a new one. Clay

asked me to be his wie on March 24, 2012.

hese watershed moments that change us arent predictable or

scripted. heyre as resh as wildlowers and unique as ingerprints,

designed to penetrate the protective layers o our will until we sur-

render ourselves to their impact.


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Part One

THE

WATERSHED OF

CHANGE


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23

2

SHIFTING

PATHS

In order to experience our watershed moments, we have to be willing

to embrace change. Most o us lirt with change in a schoolgirl kind o

way, running up to it and poking it, then sprinting o when it turns to

look our way. I used to proudly boast, I love change! hat was beore

God had me move orty-seven times in my irst ten years o marriage

to a proessional baseball player. I sheepishly changed my proud vaunt

to Change is good only i God makes it clear hes behind it.

Change is an absolute in lie, and the more we ight it or ignore it,

the more it haunts us. Why do we hide rom new experiences or roma truth that can set us ree? Why does what we are look better than

what we can be?

hese are the questions Ive spent the better part o thirty years pok-

ing or answers. he reason I poked them with such tenacity is that you

have never seen a woman who needed to change more than I did. Inse-

cure, lonely, destructive, people pleasing, earul, sel-loathing and

that was me on a good day. When I tearully gave Jesus my woundedheart in college, I didnt have any loty expectations. As a matter o act,

I didnt know much about him at all. I just knew that my lie didnt work

the way I was living it, and i I were to go on living, it had to change. But

change never comes easy. Initially resting on Gods bosom came easy,


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but the process o changing my messy mind has been like watching oak

trees grow you dont notice theyve grown until youre sitting under

their shade.

Oten the watershed o change is preceded by a period o eeling

stuck. Making the same bad choices over and over; struggling with a

poor self-image; being trapped in a destructive relationship; feeling

bored, poor, sick, bland, lonely, and unloved these are the under-

tones o being stuck. And its in these undertones that Ive begged God

to give me his vision.Ive always been a beach lover. Im most content when Im looking

out over a blue-tinted ripple that dazzles as the sun kisses the oamy

water playing with the shore, sand in my toes, towel in my hand. I

seem to be happiest when Im rolicking inside the tow o a risky wave.

But when I asked God to teach me about change and the process o

leaving the stuck or the unstuck, he simply replied, You need to think

about the mountains.

Growing up in Colorado, Ive spent most o my lie in the shadow

o the Rockies. My childhood was ull o mountains, as my grandpar-

ents lived in a town nuzzled deep in the rhythm o the mountains

sway. But still I resisted. I dont want to think o mountains, I chided.

I want to think o the beach. Mountains are too hard.

No matter how much I argued, the same images came orth.Our epiphany moments o watershed demand a response, and that

response is like climbing a mountain. Watersheds lead us to change,

and change can eel like the upward trudge o boots on rocky terrain.

Mountains arehard. heyre steep, unpredictable, and oten dan-

gerous, but the view rom the peaks summit is the view that God

wants all o us to possess the view o clarity, the view o transorma-

tion, and the view o trust. So with towel and beach chair behind me, Ivowed to learn everything I could about Gods beckon to climb.

his isnt a physical mountain you stand at the base o, but rather

a spiritual mountain that every lover o God must acknowledge.

Respectully, God doesnt tell us to climb a mountain and then leave us


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SHIFTING PATHS 25

to end or ourselves. He gives us a team to travel with, capable guides

to walk beside us and, i necessary, to hold us until we become strong

on our eet. He introduces our guides as Faith, Hope, and Humility.

Faithstands in ront o us with sure ooting and a lantern. Rugged

and strong, Faith is in great shape. Hes trained and ready or mountain

climbing, which is a relie to those o us whose muscles might need

a little more time at the gym. Whenever it gets dark and we cant see,

Faith is the hand we take hold o.

Behind us is Humility. When were tempted to run rom change or slink away rom Faiths leading Humility holds us in place,

reminding us that our strength will increase as we trust the One who

has invited us to change. Humility isnt handsome, like a ace youd

see on the cover o a magazine, but theres a unique attractiveness to

his orm. Hes selless and assured, always ready to think o us beore

himsel, which can be quite a chore when youre dealing with novice

mountain climbers.

Hopeis the one we talk to. Because he is next to us, its his arm

that we oten grab when the dirt under our eet begins to give way.

Hes good at conversation and helps keep our minds o the diicult

challenges change brings.

Ater the insight o a watershed moment, part o my problem with

instituting change is that I eel tired beore I even begin. I stand at thebase o the mountain and start to mumble in panic, I cant do this. Its

too hard! Change is or other people who are stronger than I am. Its

here that Faith turns around and looks into my eyes, Humility puts a

hand on my back, and Hope says, You can. You will. You must.

C S

hough mountain climbing may have a rugged romanticism to it, theres

nothing romantic about change. Change is for grown-ups; its for those

willing to be honest with themselves and shed attitudes, behaviors, and

belies that keep them rom resh watershed moments with God.


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Children typically change because theyre told to speak politely, be

tidy, be respectful, do their homework,brush their teeth,be good friends.

We dictate our measures o change to our children and then provide

helpers parents, siblings, teachers, mentors to assist them with the

changes we hope to see.

Adults, however, usually change because they need to, not because

they want to. hey recognize that to move orward in their lives

spiritually, physically, and emotionally theyre going to have to learn

new behaviors and new ways o making sense o what they know.According to educator Malcolm Knowles, adults have a strong

readiness to learn things that help them cope with daily lie eectively,

but they have to know whythey should learn something beore theyll

invest the time.3I regularly talk to men and women who repeat lines

as i theyve auditioned with the same monologues or the better part

o their adult lie:

his is the way Ive always been. Its my personality.

Ive gotten along just ine this way. I see no need to change!

I dont like the way they do things over there. Its not what Im

amiliar with.

I may not be perect, but Im better than most people I know.

hese types o comments keep us stuck in cycles o monotony or

despair. I know a lot about these cycles because I tossed about in them

or years, like a washing machine eternally set on spin.

Ater a tragic car accident that let my dad paralyzed rom the neck

down when I was nine, my amily spiraled into chaos. Alone with three

small children, medical bills, and a critically impaired husband, my

mom was devastated. Alcohol became her shelter until she eventuallylet it or the shelter o God but or many years our amily resembled a

limping soldier. We tried to battle, but our injuries let us incapacitated.

When I went to college, I knew I wasnt quite right. I couldnt ig-

ure out why I didnt want anyone to really know me. I igured theyd


20/23

SHIFTING PATHS 27

run or the hills when they saw how insecure I was, so I hid mysel

rom people, and I ate. I ate and I ate and I ate. I wanted to change

my destructive behavior but couldnt wrap my mind around how to

change. Ater I got sick o eating pants not zipping, embarrassed to

be seen, eeling at and ugly I dieted. Dieting led to starving, and I

starved mysel or years, loving my sense o control but recognizing

that this, too, was dangerous behavior.

When aced with the cruel act that I was slowly killing mysel, I

kept trying to muster the courage to change, but I would crumble intoa heap o good intentions with the same predictable results. On the

verge o suicide due to my cycles o despair and hopelessness, I cried

out to Jesus, begging him to prove himsel real to me.

I youre really real, Jesus, I moaned, show yoursel to me. Youre

the last hope I have. I wasnt in a church. Id never heard the word sal-

vation. I was just a beggar at the end o my rope, surrendering mysel

so God could change the course o my broken lie.

Surrender is the bravest thing well ever do. Its the inest white lag

well ever wave. Its the catalyst that allows our watershed moments to

emerge.

P S

Oten when authors talk about moments with God, they speak as i

these moments present themselves at a one-size-its-all bargain sale

heres the rack you should look at if you need advice; heres the rack

you peruse when you need healing; heres the rack you comb through

to grow. With no trip to the dressing room to see i they it, we end up

with a load in our arms that may not be right or us at all!

Sadly, Ive walked around or years with someone elses tailor-itoutit clinging loosely to my spirits shape and orm. What a joy it is

to shed that outit and realize that God is much more creative in his

design or us than one-size-its-all. As we shed dogma and directives

that might not be meant or us, it rees us to look at what ismeant or


21/23


us a distinct, exclusive invitation to surrender who we are to a God

who loves us.

Because God is uniquely sketching our lives, each o us will take

dierent paths toward the watershed o change. For some the path may

be rocky, or others it may be barren, and or some it may look like the

dead-end wall o a canyon. hese paths are meant to be walked on,

traveled on, and camped on; theyre not paths we visit once and never

return to. Surrender is a path well continue to travel until we take our

last breath on earth. I were committed to growth, well cross thesepaths repeatedly on the way to our spiritual summit.

he rocky path o surrender is the one we hear the most about.

People talk about these rocks; we rally around these rocks; we cry for

people trapped by these rocks and try as we may, its impossible to

proceed past them without help. hese are the multishaped boulders

that stop us in our tracks: divorce, betrayal, cancer, inances, death,

inertility, accidents, loss. Rocks such as these lodge themselves on our

paths, taunting us to ind a way around them.

he barren path o surrender doesnt get as much attention as the

rocky path because its harder to see what snares us in a vast path void

o clarity and insight. We seem to wander on this path with no direc-

tion, excitement, or purpose. We want to eel alive, and we wonder

why other people experience an intimacy with Christ that we eitherpretend to have or are secretly jealous that they possess. Many who

travel this path have merely ollowed others on it since birth, listening

to theirstories o loving God but never experiencing stories uniquely

their own.

Finally we come to the dead-end path o surrender, a path that

leads smack into the walls o a canyon. No matter which way we turn,

solid rock shoots straight up. heres no way out. No escape. his isthe path o addiction, rebellion, and prodigal promises that whisper

lie but instead bring death.

Each o these paths leads to the same outcome to continue to

change we must surrender. We can try to maneuver around the rocks,


22/23

SHIFTING PATHS 29

pretend we dont eel barren, or look or ways to escape the oreboding

walls o a canyon but a heartelt cry to Jesus will lit us rom these

paths and set us on a new path thats clear o obstruction and vitally

alive.

Sometimes I surrender with a clear mind and a strong voice, able

to articulate what I need to move orward and my desire to be led to

new heights with God. Other times I cant even speak. Im too weary,

conused, hurt, or deceived. I seem to crawl spiritually, inch by inch,

until I sense my surrender liting me rom the ground to my eet.ruthully, isnt that all God asks o us? A heart surrendered to his

help and glory? Isnt it time we traded our lives in the suburbs or a

mountain where Gods voice breathes like the song o the wildlowers?

he unny thing about mountain lowers is that the higher you get, the

more you realize no one will ever see these remarkable ields o jewels.

Its as i they were created or Gods eyes alone.

What a joy it is to realize that, like those lowers, we dont change

so that we will be noticed by others. We dont change out o guilt or

duty, but rather or the sheer pleasure o learning the ways o God. We

know he will acknowledge our courage, even i no one else does.


23/23

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Watershed MomentsTurning Points that Change the Course of Our Livesby Gari Meacham

A watershed moment is a

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Praise for WatershedMoments

In Watershed Moments, Gari Meacham writes with the

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~Gary Thomas, author of Sacred Marriage
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