KEEPING YOUR FEET FORWARD AND YOUR KNEES BENT
by Eric Elder
A friend recently asked me, “How do you feel when you come across a boulder that’s in your way?”
How do I feel? I didn’t understand the question.
Maybe my friend meant to say, “What do you do when you come across a boulder that’s in your way?” Because I know the answer to that one. I usually try to talk to the boulder (if the boulder is in the form of a person) or to God (if the boulder is related to finances or health or a person to whom I can’t talk for some reason). I try to explain why I need to keep going the way I’m going, asking them to help me keep going or to move out of the way so I can get through.
But my friend said, “No, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking, ‘How do you feel when you come across a boulder?'”
Again, I didn’t understand the question. “Can I just go around the boulder?” I asked.
“Sure, you can go around it if you want to,” my friend said. “But that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking, ‘How you feel when you come across one that’s in your way?'”
How do I feel? “Well,” I said, “I usually feel frustrated. Angry. Hurt. Of course, that’s how I feel. Isn’t that obvious? Isn’t that the way everyone feels?”
My friend didn’t answer, but simply said, “I think there’s something God wants to say to you. That’s why I’m asking.”
So over the next few days, I began to pray about the question: “How do I feel when I come across a boulder that’s in my way?” The answer seemed so obvious that I didn’t understand why it would even matter.
But while praying one day, I suddenly remembered something from many years ago–when I was just a kid. I was white-water rafting with my family on a river in Colorado. The guide who rented us the raft and was helping us to navigate the river gave us a helpful tip:
“If you fall out of the raft, float on your back with your feet forward and your knees bent. That way, if you run into a boulder underwater, you’ll hit it with your feet first and be able to step up over it or push off and go around it. But if your feet aren’t forward, you’re likely to run into it with your back or your side or your head and you could get hurt pretty badly. And if your knees aren’t bent, you won’t be able to step up over it or push off and go around it. So be sure to keep your feet forward and your knees bent.”
I’ve rafted and floated on many rivers since then, from the mountains of Nepal to creeks here in Illinois, and I’ve always remembered that guide’s advice. It’s kept me from getting hurt several times.
So when I was praying about the boulder question, I suddenly remembered the guide’s advice. And I suddenly realized that God did have something He wanted to say to me.
There have been times in my life when I’ve come across boulders that were in my way. Boulders that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Boulders that threatened to derail me from the direction I was wanting to go. And my reaction has almost always been the same. I get frustrated. Angry. Hurt.
I’ve tried talking to the boulders and talking to God. But when the boulders haven’t moved, I’ve just gotten more frustrated. More angry. More hurt. Even when the boulders have moved, I’ve often felt the sting of pain from running into the boulders long after I’ve moved on farther down the river.
My friend’s question now made sense to me. What if, I thought, instead of getting sideswiped by the boulders that I come across in life, I change my posture, knowing that there are probably going to be more boulders ahead, and keep my feet forward and my knees bent so I can step up and over them or push off and go around them? It might not change the fact that I’ll still run across some boulders–and it might still take some effort to get around them. But I might not get so frustrated when I come across them. I might not get so angry. I might not get so hurt.
I began to think through some of the boulders I had run across in the past and how this advice could have helped me during those times: when I asked a boss for a favor, and he said no; when I asked a girl if she wanted to date, and she said no; when I asked God to change a situation, and He said no. In each situation, I remember getting frustrated. Angry. Hurt. I took their answers personally when oftentimes it wasn’t personal at all, at least not at its core. In each situation, the others were just doing what they felt was right in the situation, but somehow it got personal from there.
As I thought about each of those situations from my past, I wondered, What if I had kept my feet forward and my knees bent? How would I have reacted differently? The biggest and most obvious difference was that I wouldn’t have gotten nearly as frustrated, nearly as angry or nearly as hurt. I wouldn’t have taken it all so personally. Instead, I could have stepped up and over the boulders, or pushed off and gone around them, rather than getting sideswiped, hit in the back, or knocked around on the head.
I also thought about some of the boulders I’m facing now–those barriers that seem to be in my way and could potentially give me some real knocks, too, if I’m not prepared for them. I can easily see how I don’t have to take it so personally if the boulders don’t move. I can see it better from the boulders’ perspectives. A boulder, after all, isn’t necessarily at fault for being plopped down in the middle of the river. It’s just sitting there innocently, perhaps, but happens to be in my way!
And while I know very well that my guide’s advice can’t prevent me from ever experiencing frustration or anger or hurt, it does give me a way to minimize or eliminate much of the frustration or anger or hurt. The big difference is posture. Preparedness. And not letting every obstacle seem so dang personal.
I finally saw the value in my friend’s question. As boulders are popping up now, I’m trying harder to remember the advice of my Guide:
“Keep your feet forward and your knees bent.”
I can already see that I’m getting less frustrated, less angry, and less hurt when I do run across boulders that are in my way. And, to my amazement, with my feet forward and my knees bent, it’s sometimes as easy as stepping up and over them or pushing off and going around. Praise God!