The signs are there. All that's left is the action.

One of my favourite stories - parables, if you like... or is it a joke? - goes like this.

A man is sitting watching TV one day when the weather forecast explains that a great flood is coming and everyone in his area is advised to leave their homes and evacuate the area.

The man sits there and chuckles to himself.

'I'm not evacuating,' he says. 'God will save me from the flood.'

A neighbour knocks at his door, having just seen the forecast and heard the warnings.

'Come with us. We're evacuating the area,' says the neighbour.

'Thank you, but I'm not leaving. God will save me,' says the man.

Later that day, the police come by, asking the man to evacuate his home for his own safety. They offer to drive him out of the area.

'I'm not leaving,' says the man. 'God will save me.'

Later, the flood water is rising. It is now flowing down the man's street like a river. It is so deep now that boats are sailing in it. The man is on the first floor of his house to avoid the flood water when a boat comes past, and one of the people driving it shouts to the man using a megaphone:

'Please, come with us - we'll evacuate you from the area. The flood is going to get worse. You must come with us.'

'I'm not coming,' says the man. 'God will save me.'

The water rises further, and the man has to climb out of his window and onto his roof to avoid the water.

A helicopter comes past, the rescue workers inside calling down to the man.

'Climb aboard, we'll take you away from the flood.'

'I'm not coming,' shouts the man. 'God will save me.'

The flood water rises further. The man is swept away, drowning in the torrent.

He finds himself standing before God, hurt and angry.

'God,' he says, 'I believed in you. Why did you forsake me? Why did you not save me?'

'Man,' says God. 'I sent a weather forecast, your neighbour, a police officer, a boat and a helicopter. What more do you want from me?'

And there it is. The signs we ignore, that might be all we need to save us.

This story is echoed in Ingrid Goff Madoff's beautiful poem: God spoke today in flowers,and I, who was waiting on words,almost missed the conversation.

How many signs do we need? Where might we be ignoring them?

Where might we be waiting on words when the message in flowers is loud, clear and poignant?

I sometimes slow clients down - those who are wrestling with a decision. I offer them Marcia Reynolds' framing: are you really here for help with the decision? Or do you just want help finding the courage to take action on the decision you have already made?

Remarkably often, since I learned that from Marcia, the latter has been true.

You know the decision, deep down. Sometimes, you're just waiting for ANOTHER sign from God. Waiting to be SURE.

Of course, as I've written before, I'm not particularly a person of faith in the normal sense - a person with faith in the existence of a God - and I envy those who are.

But I am a person of faith by some definitions.

I'm a person who believes it is worth having faith.

Faith that action in the face of fear is the only choice.

Faith that creating something that is calling us is worth it.

Faith that if we start, inspiration is always around and will be there.

Faith that if we take acts of courage, the universe will show us the way, will give us something powerful.

Faith that if we don't get what we want, then we will grow anyway.

Faith that that growth is worth it.

Usually, we've had more than enough signs.

All the people in our lives who care for us may tell us the same thing. Deep down, when wisdom speaks to us, we know they are right. And yet we wait hoping for evidence to the contrary.

The signs are there. All that's left is the action.

Or all the people in our lives may tell us one thing, and yet we know they are wrong, deep down. When wisdom speaks. The sign, again, is there.

All that's left is the action.

This is the latest in a series of articles written using the 12-Minute Method: write for twelve minutes, proof read once with tiny edits and then post online. 

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Robbie Swale1 Comment