We finally convinced her to go with us. Two older adults came off the ride and assured us we wouldn’t get “that wet”. So, we made our way through the line and finally stepped onto the conveyer belt. Carefully, we entered the slow-moving, wetter-than-we-hoped-for, circular boat fastened atop a large rubber inner tube.

All of us grabbed the wet, Velcro straps and fastened them around our waists as we stared at each other across the circle and smiled.

“It doesn’t look too bad. See, the rapids aren’t really rapids. We’ll be fine,” I assured my oldest.

My mom nervously fumbled with her strap, still unsure of her agreement to ride with us. The conveyor belt jolted and moved us on our way with a light splash.

“See, what did I tell you? Not bad at all.” Again, I tried to encourage everyone we made the right decision.

After the first curve, the boat began to spin with every bump against the edge of the makeshift river. Then we picked up speed. Around the next bend was a sign,  “Sinkhole Ahead”. Who knew my six-year-old was reading so well?

“A sinkhole? How are we going to get out? I don’t want to go into the sink hole. I’m scared!”

I could see the spiraling whirlpool ahead, but I also saw just past the whirlpool and realized a sinkhole was the least of our problems.

“Daniel, it’s okay. We aren’t going into the sinkhole.”

“We’re not?”

  “Nope. But we are fixing to go down a giant hill on the other side of the sink hole, so you better hold on tight!”

As I said those words, my mom looked down. The expression on her face was sheer panic. “I’m unbuckled! Ahh!”

We hit the side and headed down the wild current backwards. She refastened her safety belt at the last second. Water splashed into our boat soaking feet and legs. Then, without warning, chunks of water fell from a makeshift waterfall, soaking us all.

The water calmed. Panic dissipated. And laughter ensued. “Where’s that couple who said we wouldn’t get wet?” I asked.

“They didn’t sit where we did.” Mom shook off some water. “And I thought I was a goner when that belt came loose.”

“Do you really think that sad, little, Velcro belt was going to hold you in?” I asked.

We both laughed. In reality, the belt only offered a false sense of security, but at the time, it was all we knew to cling to.

Kinda’ like the control we cling to when life begins to fall apart. Or the finances we hold too tightly as we try to make the month and money run out together. Or our plans A, B, C, and D we run through when nothing seems to work out.

All those things are exactly like the flimsy safety belts—false security. And yet, we grip onto those temperamental areas until our fingers lose their feeling, convinced we can stand steadfastly on our false security.

If only we recognized first that our real hope, real dependence, and real rescue is only found in Christ. We can hope that belt will hold us in, and we can cling with all our gusto, but in reality, we must depend on God’s security. If he can set the world in motion and make a way for the sparrow, surely he can part the waters of my sea and make a way on dry ground for me.

Are you trusting in a false security belt in this ride of life? Take your hands off, inhale a deep breath of fresh air, and trust in the God who is big enough to handle it all. And hang on, because it’s sure to be an exhilarating, fun, and wild ride.

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