Grab a lilo and chuck yourself in the deep end.

Did you see it? The puddle?

For those who missed it, today the nation (or at least about 30,000 of us) were momentarily mesmerised by the #DrummondPuddleWatch.

In short, a huge puddle had formed in Drummond (Newcastle-upon-Tyne) and some clever soul set up a live stream, letting us all giggle and gawp as different people navigated their way round/through/in the puddle.  

Within hours it’d gone viral, with thousands of us glued to our screens, watching strangers unwittingly try to find their way through the waters.

We had the stream open at work and were giggling and empathising with their plight.  Do you bravely trudge through it, not knowing its depths and risk showing up (wherever you’re headed next) with soggy ankles?  Or, do you try to navigate around it, and hope against hope that you don’t actually slip and fall flat on your behind?   Us Brits live in a climate of pretty much constant rain. We know a lot about puddles. These are the struggles we face.

As word got around that a puddle was now trending, the exhibitionists started to show up; the guy in his underwear and on a lilo, the bloke with a surfboard…and oh, there was Dominos, with a pizza.   Next thing you knew, someone was selling bottles of Drummond puddle water on EBay and at last count, the bids had topped £56,000.  Yep, for a plastic bottle of rainwater. 

For me, I couldn’t help but think a bit more deeply and wonder if it was an example about life.  Some of us storm through it, not caring if we get our trousers wet, some carefully skirt round the edges, desperately trying to avoid any kind of damage.  

Others turn up with a lilo and a pizza and float their way to safety.

Me…I’d probably try to tiptoe my way around the edges, trying to avoid falling, slipping or ending up sitting in the office with damp clothes all day.

What can a murky puddle teach me about God?  Probably not very much. But at the beginning of a new year, it can make me think about how I want to tackle the year ahead.  Carefully creep round the boundary, earnestly avoiding injury?  Or put some real hope and faith in God and trust him with the  rest of the journey?