First Notes: Struggling, Clinging, or Resting?
Dear First Baptist Family,
When Hernán Cortés landed in Mexico in 1519 with 11 ships, 13 horses, and 553 soldiers, he did something legendary: he ordered the ships burned. His crew watched their only way home turn to ashes. Cortés was signaling that retreat wasn't possible. The only way forward was to complete their mission.
Sometimes we need to burn the ships too. We need to stop clinging to the past, forgive ourselves for failures, and risk what we have to achieve something great. The choice to surrender everything to God is a burn-the-ships moment.
A mentor of mine faced such a moment while pastoring. Two churches contacted him, one larger, one smaller with less pay and influence. He felt drawn to the smaller church but knew his family would sacrifice.
"I knew I had a decision to make, but it was more than a choice between churches," he said. "I believe God was calling me to fully trust Him—to stake everything on His power—or forever live as a coward." He burned the ships and went to the smaller church.
The Holy Spirit brings us to such moments. A new venture or mission presents itself that requires deeper dependence on God. But most people keep a plan B close, preferring past success or comfort over the wild, unpredictable calling of the Spirit.
Rees Howells experienced such a moment when he said yes to the Holy Spirit's indwelling. When he opened a mission for desperate people, he constantly met those struggling to wholeheartedly follow Jesus. Rees began to see that people often struggle like a sailor thrown into the sea, finding themselves in one of three positions.
First, there is the struggling position—flailing in the water, fighting waves, only able to help themselves.
Second, there is the clinging position—grasping the lifeboat's side, safe but hands too occupied to help others.
Third, there is the resting position—sitting safely in the boat with hands free to help others. This is the place of deliverance where the sea's effects are no longer deadly.
The mission workers realized they needed the resting position to effectively serve others. "We soon found out we could not provide, and that was just the place the Lord wanted us," Rees wrote. "Then we had to find out that we could, if we would trust Him. The Holy Spirit allowed us to be failures once or twice, so we left off struggling. We clung to God's promises, and He never failed us."
In what position are you today? Struggling, clinging, or resting?
Some people are in the boat but rarely help neighbors or strangers in need. They've never risked something so daring that only the Holy Spirit's help could accomplish it.
So I'd add a fourth category: Abandoning.
Sometimes, we have to get out of the boat of comfort, safety, and convenience. Remember how Peter did that one day? ”Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus" (Matthew 14:29, NIV).
Sometimes you must leave everything behind to grasp the one thing that matters. You need to abandon ship to fall into Jesus's arms, or burn the boats and head into the mainland with no map.
Make a decision. Put a stake in the ground. Commit to a path and don't stop.
My friend David felt called to pastor as a teenager, inspired by Martin Luther King Jr. to speak for the voiceless and serve those in poverty's bondage. That calling led him to Southern Seminary in Louisville, where money was tight.
The Kentucky Derby brings incredible wealth to Louisville one week yearly. Organizers employed seminary students—considered more honest and less susceptible to bribes—to work the stadium.
One year, when David desperately needed money for the next semester, he worked the most expensive section. A man approached asking to enter without a ticket. David refused. The man then pulled out enough cash to pay not just one semester, but a whole year. He held it out. All David had to do was take the money and look away.
David had a choice to make. But he really didn't. He'd settled the matter long before in his heart.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "My soul is not for sale."
David knows what it means to rest in God's care. He's in the boat, daily reaching out to help others find safety and rest. And sometimes—sometimes—David is called out of the boat to do something that can only happen through God's power.
Today may be the day for you to rest in the boat. It may be the day to step out of the boat. It may be the day to burn the boat.
He's calling to you. Go to Him now in the power of the Holy Spirit. Don't look back. Don't be afraid. He's reaching out to take your hand. His way is better. His Word is trustworthy. He's got you. He'll keep you. He'll guide you. He who calls you is faithful.
With love,
Pastor Brent McDougal
When Hernán Cortés landed in Mexico in 1519 with 11 ships, 13 horses, and 553 soldiers, he did something legendary: he ordered the ships burned. His crew watched their only way home turn to ashes. Cortés was signaling that retreat wasn't possible. The only way forward was to complete their mission.
Sometimes we need to burn the ships too. We need to stop clinging to the past, forgive ourselves for failures, and risk what we have to achieve something great. The choice to surrender everything to God is a burn-the-ships moment.
A mentor of mine faced such a moment while pastoring. Two churches contacted him, one larger, one smaller with less pay and influence. He felt drawn to the smaller church but knew his family would sacrifice.
"I knew I had a decision to make, but it was more than a choice between churches," he said. "I believe God was calling me to fully trust Him—to stake everything on His power—or forever live as a coward." He burned the ships and went to the smaller church.
The Holy Spirit brings us to such moments. A new venture or mission presents itself that requires deeper dependence on God. But most people keep a plan B close, preferring past success or comfort over the wild, unpredictable calling of the Spirit.
Rees Howells experienced such a moment when he said yes to the Holy Spirit's indwelling. When he opened a mission for desperate people, he constantly met those struggling to wholeheartedly follow Jesus. Rees began to see that people often struggle like a sailor thrown into the sea, finding themselves in one of three positions.
First, there is the struggling position—flailing in the water, fighting waves, only able to help themselves.
Second, there is the clinging position—grasping the lifeboat's side, safe but hands too occupied to help others.
Third, there is the resting position—sitting safely in the boat with hands free to help others. This is the place of deliverance where the sea's effects are no longer deadly.
The mission workers realized they needed the resting position to effectively serve others. "We soon found out we could not provide, and that was just the place the Lord wanted us," Rees wrote. "Then we had to find out that we could, if we would trust Him. The Holy Spirit allowed us to be failures once or twice, so we left off struggling. We clung to God's promises, and He never failed us."
In what position are you today? Struggling, clinging, or resting?
Some people are in the boat but rarely help neighbors or strangers in need. They've never risked something so daring that only the Holy Spirit's help could accomplish it.
So I'd add a fourth category: Abandoning.
Sometimes, we have to get out of the boat of comfort, safety, and convenience. Remember how Peter did that one day? ”Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus" (Matthew 14:29, NIV).
Sometimes you must leave everything behind to grasp the one thing that matters. You need to abandon ship to fall into Jesus's arms, or burn the boats and head into the mainland with no map.
Make a decision. Put a stake in the ground. Commit to a path and don't stop.
My friend David felt called to pastor as a teenager, inspired by Martin Luther King Jr. to speak for the voiceless and serve those in poverty's bondage. That calling led him to Southern Seminary in Louisville, where money was tight.
The Kentucky Derby brings incredible wealth to Louisville one week yearly. Organizers employed seminary students—considered more honest and less susceptible to bribes—to work the stadium.
One year, when David desperately needed money for the next semester, he worked the most expensive section. A man approached asking to enter without a ticket. David refused. The man then pulled out enough cash to pay not just one semester, but a whole year. He held it out. All David had to do was take the money and look away.
David had a choice to make. But he really didn't. He'd settled the matter long before in his heart.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "My soul is not for sale."
David knows what it means to rest in God's care. He's in the boat, daily reaching out to help others find safety and rest. And sometimes—sometimes—David is called out of the boat to do something that can only happen through God's power.
Today may be the day for you to rest in the boat. It may be the day to step out of the boat. It may be the day to burn the boat.
He's calling to you. Go to Him now in the power of the Holy Spirit. Don't look back. Don't be afraid. He's reaching out to take your hand. His way is better. His Word is trustworthy. He's got you. He'll keep you. He'll guide you. He who calls you is faithful.
With love,
Pastor Brent McDougal
Recent
Archive
2026
2025
August
September
October
November
Categories
no categories
No Comments