Lift up your head

I’ve been part of an out-rigging canoe club for almost a year now. Not since my college rugby days have I cared so much, tried so hard and dreamt so frequently about a sport --including watching the Detroit Pistons win their first title and Ben Johnson winning Olympic gold, becoming the fastest man in the world (at least for that incredible 48 hrs before the scandal broke). But back to the OC club. One of the things on which I’m working as I learn this sport, and the list is long, is to keep my head up. I hear it every time I’m in the boat- keep your head up! But why? I’m not steering. It's often dark and keeping my head down helps me focus, keeps me in it as I try to put all the aspects of a single stroke together. Isn’t that what we tell each other- just keep your head down and do the work? Lean in and get it done, right? It’s how we work hard.

All my reasons for keeping my head down were overruled by a teammate explaining that my head down meant I was pushing the boat down, driving it into the water rather than helping to surge ahead. That one person on a 400 lb boat with five other people could affect our momentum is crazy. But it’s also true. So now I work hard to keep my head up, eyes ahead, pushing forward. “Imua!” someone will shout. It means forward, ahead, with strength and determination. 

Is that a good word for us today? As our local high school seniors graduate and as we navigate another day of pandemic life with the uncertainty it unleashes, do we need to be reminded to keep our heads up?  Probably. It’s easy to feel down, to not want to look up and see more trouble coming. Good advice, keep your head up. Thanks.

More than good advice, I want some good news. I think I found some when I went to my Psalms playbook. Look at verse 3 of Psalm 3:

But thou, O Lord, art a shield about me; my glory, 
and the lifter up of my head.

There it is. Of all the names for God, here is another great one for the collection: Lifter of my head. 

I’ve written a lot of prayers in my life but have not once, until today, directed them to the One-who-lifts-my-head. And too bad. What a name it is!  A head drooping with heavy thoughts, dizzy with anxiety, bent low, eyes down because there is nothing good to see when along comes the Lifter Of My Head. And in looking up, looking out and looking ahead, a new perspective brings sightings of land. Not yet there, but on my way.  Imua.
O Lifter of my head. 
Imua.