Laced With Grace

When standing on the edge of… oh, say….ANYTHING.  I get that stomach flip flopping, hands sweating, heart racing- kind of feeling. Not the “Ohh I’m in love” feeling- the other one- FEAR. It could be a bridge, a cliff, or the top of a steep set of stairs. Not quite panic— but fear. Although the fear is manageable… I don’t like it. It makes me feel like a wimp- a baby or maybe just a little too human and frail.

While on vacation recently, I had a few opportunities to face some of my fears. A looooong bridge drive, a steep, narrow light house to climb with the wiggly little guy…..and finally- a crystal clear Norman Rockwell type waterfall/swimming hole, complete with waterbugs of all ages jumping into the rapids, heads bobbing up afterwards with cheshire cat like grins from ear to ear. Standing on the edge with my camera/excuse for not jumping in… I knew I was missing out on half the experience. I witnessed the beauty of the rushing water- but was completely missing out on the fun.

Was I afraid of the waterfall?

No. Not a bit- In fact, I was so enraptured by it- that I totally forgot how short my legs are when I bent down to snap this pic— let’s just say I ended up a “soggy bottom mom”. It wasn’t the waterfall that     had me afraid- it was the JUMPING off into the unknown that worried me.

  I watched as child after child jumped and swam… I watched as adult after   adult proved the safety of the jump. I watched as friends and family rose out of the rapids- aglow with joy.

I carefully edged out toward the middle. I looked down into the swirling water….I walked back to shore. I handed my camera/security blanket to my oldest, and told him I was going to jump. His jaw fell open and nearly hit the shore. I told him to make sure and get the shot- there would only (probably) be one take.

I wandered over to the centerpoint, my feet slipping on algae covered rocks. I stepped aside as 2 9-10 year old girls jumped into the deep. (Ok so maybe it was 4 1/2 feet) I plugged my nose… I unplugged it. I stepped to the edge–heart racing… then down just one rock lower….I plugged my nose again. I made eye contact one last time with family and friends (just in case) .. and then? I jumped.

The water seemed to jump up to catch me. Not at all like the tearing torrent I’d imagined. It was cool and refreshing. I sank to the bottom and my legs automatically sprang me back to the top. I felt the current pulling me side-wise…. gently. My head broke the surface- and I knew I was grinning like a mascara streaked madwoman. Not mad with fear- but with joy. I DID IT!

Exhilarated, I climbed back up the rocks, and then?  I did it again. After a nice hike and towel dry… I started to wonder. How many times have I stood on the edge of fun- of a joy filled experience, paralyzed by a fear of the unknown.

Sadly-there have been more times than I care to admit. I’ve missed a lot more than waterfall jumping adventures. I know I’ve felt the same adrenaline rush as I stood at the top of faith leaps- watching others step up and leap- while I snapped pics and cowered in hidden fear.

I’ve been afraid to try, for risk of failure. I’ve been afraid to trust at risk of trust broken. I’ve been afraid to jump- at risk of falling… but all I’ve lost- was the joy of being caught- by much stronger arms than the arms of a river.

The waterfalls in faith leaps aren’t always as tame as the Ocqueoc Falls. They are sometimes dangerous. For some reason- God allows them to be. There is risk in trusting God. There are few guarantees.

But- today, as I upload vacation pictures… I wonder- how many guarantees do we really need- beyond this one:

Matthew 17:20 (New International Version)

He replied, “Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

Are you standing at the edge of a waterfall of faith? Is fear keeping you there? Are you watching as other leap into the deep and are lifted up as God catches them, jump after jump? Today… I encourage you to go ahead… plug your nose if you have to… and JUMP!

The risk is worth the taking:)

For an interesting study on Faith- please click over to biblegateway- see for yourself the leaps that others have taken… and be encouraged.

In the comments today- can you share a leap you’ve either taken- or feared to take?  What was it like?  What was the outcome?  How did you grow?

PS- yes- the terribly unflattering jumper shot- is me…on my second jump:)

My hands sweat.  My heart pounded.  My feet felt like lead as we walked across the parking lot.  A thousand and one reasons NOT to go, raced through my mind.  They were, however, drowned out by a single quiet truth.  Going, was the right thing to do. So, we did.   

I lifted one foot after the other, held my husbands hand with a death grip, and together, we walked on.  Right through the door.  I felt awful, a mix of nausea and tension.  While I knew it was the RIGHT thing…. it just felt so wrong. 

We went in- we did what we knew was right,  and we left.  Relief flooded over me as I slid into the car.  Tears filled my eyes.  It had been the right thing to do.  However, even after the fact- if I am honest- I would have to say that while knowing I had been obedient felt good.. the action of obedience itself, did not.  It felt sickening, actually. 

How can that be right? All evening, doubt continued to challenge my mind. I waivered between doubt and relief.

Finally, I was reminded of the story of  Abraham. I could see him carefully tying Isaac to the altar.  I could see the sun glint off the knife as he raised it high into the air. I wondered if this act of obedience felt “good”.  As a parent- I can ony imagine it felt torturous. Not good.  Yet, it was right for Abraham to obey God.  I don’t have a doubt about that. I also don’t doubt that Abraham must have agonized over that act of obedience.  Did that mean it was wrong?  No. Feelings (emotions) do not always *indicate* God’s will.

In a small way, mine was an act of obedience like Abraham’s. Even if it felt awful, and, from my perspective, was torturous. It was still the right thing to do.

Don’t worry, you haven’t missed the details of this post… I’m purposefully not putting in the “ who, what, where, when, why and how’s” of my particular act of obedience. I want you to be able to relate through yours.  I doubt I’m the only one who has experienced something like this.

I hope we can talk together in the comments about whether doing the right thing- always feels good, and what you do when it doesn’t….. This week?  I just kept telling myself over and over.. “It’s the right thing.. it’s the right thing” and then, took the next step.

Has this ever happened to you?  What did you do? Does feeling nervous, scared, anxious, threatened, etc… cause you to doubt whether something is right or wrong, to do?   I can’t wait to hear… what a privilege to share….

PS- thank you for your patience while I took an unexpected break this month- The graduation of my oldest and ensuing party madness was a little more overwhelming than I had anticipated.. I missed you all- and am so glad to be “back in the saddle”!

God’s response, to Abraham’s obedience… and just maybe?  To ours:

“I swear by myself, declares the LORD, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, 17 I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, 18 and through your offspring ^[b] all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me.”

I was relieved when I left the mall.  But, didn’t last long.  Relief over finding what you need at the mall fades quickly when the infamous red and blue lights of a police car start flashing through the back window of your car.  It totally disappears when that authoritarian voice says “Please pull over” over the loudspeaker, and you realize they are talking to you.

Tears came to my eyes before I could even roll down the window.  “Ma’am? Do you know why I’m pulling you over?”  I’m quite sure I heard the jeopardy theme… hard to tell over the rain and fading siren, sound.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t have a clue.  He firmly enlightened me.  Then he asked the hardest question of all… “Can I have your Drivers license, registration and proof of insurance? ”  “Yes, sir” I said.  Tears running down my cheeks, feeling a little like a criminal, but not sure why.

I started to dig through my purse.  I (eventually) found my drivers license.  (stuck between 15 target receipts and a piece of unwrapped (thankfully unchewed) gum.  The insurance card?  Nope.  The registration?  No matter how much I dug through my bag it wasn’t there.  It was in the glove-compartment.   The officer took what I found and told me to keep looking for the insurance info.  No luck. Sure- I had all the feminine “necessaries” (Which I managed not to dump in my lap, at least) I had gum and mints and a camera, my ipod, a journal, pens, change, 57 store discount/frequent buyer cards, an unwrapped hershey kiss, way too many grocery receipts, expired coupons, enough makeup to paint a barn like a clown, but no insurance info.  The officer eventually came back to the window and handed me my “gift”.  A big fat ticket.

At home- I found the insurance info I’d needed.  Buried under all the “stuff” I carry around everyday.  Stuff I “might” need.  Stuff I “might’ want.  Stuff I find hard to let go of.  Stuff that makes my purse leave angry red marks on my shoulder and would probably make a chiropractor cry. There is too much junk in my trunk. So much that I can’t find what I need.

What are you carrying around?  Not just in your bag… but in your life?  Are you carrying around a bunch of busy-ness that weighs you down and wears you out?  Are you carrying around baggage from a past that is full of pain?  Is the weight of a bag full of guilt tearing into your shoulder?  Let’s clean out our bags together…. and lay the messy bits and pieces at Jesus’s feet…. I’m pretty sure he can help us sort out what needs to go. He may even carry them for us!

Dear Jesus,

I love you, and I need your help with all that I’m carrying.  Please help me to let go of what needs to go, and to hold onto what needs to be held.  In my actions, my attitudes, my choices and things… in all things God- I ask you to clean out my bags.  I love you Lord- amen