It’s been a hot summer here in the North Georgia Mountains. At times during the heat I resurrected and relished memories of the place where, as a child, I learned to swim. It was called Lake Geneva, a public entertainment complex just out of the city limits with a pool that was fed by the third largest artesian well in the world. The cool, fresh water constantly gushed out of the ground, through a manmade aqueduct, and into an enormous pool. The water flowed in, lingered long enough to keep the pool full, and then went through a drain out into a large lake. The constant movement of the water kept the temperature “refreshing” even on the hottest days. It was clean and clear and deep and cold, and the best way to approach it was to climb the ladder to the high dive and just plunge in. It always took my breath away—and I loved it!
Tomorrow I take a new plunge—not into a freshwater pool—but into the middle of a new refreshing adventure. Teaching college students to write and communicate effectively is a new calling on my life, and I plan to enjoy it even if the first plunge may take my breath away. I won’t put on floaties or a life vest. I might hang on to the edge for a little while; however, eventually I’ll have to let go and paddle on my own. Fortunately, there will be competent lifeguards (faculty and staff) to fish me out when I get over my head. So thankful for them!
Through Isaiah, God told His servants “…I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun!” (Isaiah 43:19 NLT). Yes, He has begun something new with me. I can see it. And I feel like the psalmist who wrote: “He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.” (Psalm 40:3) I have a new song indeed. Think mine should start with “Marco…Polo”?