What’s Your Foundation Made of?

The “Three Little Pigs” is a classic nursery rhyme most of us are familiar with. Three little pigs each build a home and are immediately threatened by a hungry wolf who wants to eat them. As the story reads, the first two were lazy and didn’t want to work hard to build their homes. They chose straw and sticks as the material, which allowed them to finish quickly and spend the rest of their day singing and dancing. The third pig worked hard all day building his house with bricks, making it strong enough to withstand powerful winds. When the wolf comes after all three of them, he huffs and puffs and blows the first two houses down. Those two pigs narrowly escape and seek shelter in the house of the third. The wolf exhausts himself trying to blow the brick house down and becomes angry. He climbs onto the roof to sneak down the chimney, but falls into a boiling pot of water and the three little pigs eat him.

There are multiple parables in this tale. The first two pigs hastily decide against a sturdy foundation so they can have more play time. Their decision makes them vulnerable and nearly costs them their lives. They are saved by the wiser pig, who traded his free time for the assurance of a firm foundation, which kept them safe. This not only saved all three of them, it provided them nourishment they were at risk of becoming at the expense of the wolf. The wolf didn’t believe he could be outsmarted and got lost in his own self-indulgence. He then became the very meal for the pigs he thought he was about to make of them.

Last weekend a friend and I went to lunch in a rural area not far from where I live. On the way, we passed a large lake that was spotted with ice fishing houses and pick up trucks parked around them. This sparked the conversation that we both had a fear of walking on the ice, even if we could see 100 trucks parked on it! We both grew up in Minnesota, where almost every child has walked on a frozen lake at least once. Neither one of us had done so in years and agreed were okay with not doing it any time soon.

Over lunch we talked about overcoming fears and facing the unknown. Our thoughts went back to the frozen lake. We came to the conclusion that walking on a frozen lake was comparable to trusting the unknown. Our eyes lit up and we excitedly agreed we should go back to the lake and walk on it - together! This would be better! We could link arms and support each other.

Fifteen minutes later we had parked in a small lot next to the lake. A woman just so happened to be walking towards us from the lake. In fact, she was still on the lake when I spotted her. As we readied ourselves with mittens, sunglasses and courage, the woman reached her car, which was a few steps away from mine. Before we stepped into our brave boots, I wanted to ask her how far she had walked. She said she had gone almost half way across and volunteered the fact that the ice was fourteen inches thick.

Seeing pickup trucks parked on the ice was not enough for either one of us to have braved a walk on the ice, knowing the depth of the ice didn’t matter either. But, that was before. Now that we were about to take what felt like a maiden voyage, having the knowledge that the ice was more than a foot thick did give us an extra sense of security. For early January, the temperature was mild making for favorable conditions to be outdoors on the lake. The sun was shining and sparkled on the clear ice patches where the snow cover had melted from the warmth of the sun.

“A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking because her trust is not on the branch, but on her own wings”. -Anonymous

We gleefully glided our boots across the ice. We shrieked in anticipation of how quickly we put distance between ourselves and the shore. Before long we were nearly halfway across the lake. When we looked around and realized this, we both felt a brief sense of unsteadiness, (although we knew it was in our heads). We also agreed we were satisfied with what we had accomplished and turned back towards the safety of the shore. We were overcome with excitement and took a longer route to revel in what we had just done. We were energized by the shining sun and the above average temperatures. It felt good to be out there. We intentionally walked towards two people sitting on lawn chairs, ice fishing in the wide open. With the enthusiasm of young children, we exclaimed that we were on the ice to overcome our fears and all had a good laugh. When we got back to my car, we gave each other a high five and breathed a sigh of relief to have solid ground back under our feet.

Fear kept me from walking on the ice. I was afraid because ice is simply frozen water and it can be broken. I was afraid of falling through. I do realize when there is fourteen inches of ice between my feet and the water below, there is nothing to worry about. My focus wasn’t on the thickness of the ice, it was on the water, the part that can’t be walked on (unless your Jesus or Peter). The sunshine and warm weather distracted me from focusing on my fear and I managed to hoof it around that frozen lake for close to two miles. Not a marathon by any stretch, but it’s a start.

My faith is my foundation. Having this firm foundation to rely on has been essential for my survival. There have been times when my foundation wasn’t so strong and I succumbed to whatever might have been tempting or causing me any sort of strain. I was like the first two pigs in the nursery rhyme. I wasn’t willing to work hard for the sake of my own protection and fell apart under insignificant circumstances. I learned over time that putting forth efforts to be prepared for the worst was an investment worth making.

Each adversity I’ve faced has deepened my faith. I still have fears, but I know they are not real. Walking on the frozen lake was more than overcoming a fear. It was a confirmation that I can trust in that which I cannot see. It was almost exhilarating to change my fear into an action and overcome it. The source of my faith was not the ice, it was the foundation between my feet and the water. The source of my faith was surrendering to it, and gaining the freedom I did to delight in something I once feared.  Straw, sticks or bricks? Water or ice? What is your foundation built from?

If you don’t stand firm in your faith, you won’t stand at all. Isaiah 7:9

“Be sure to put your feet in the right place and then stand firm”. -Abraham Lincoln