The powder was deep and the snow light. My dad grew up ski racing in leather boots with wooden boards. His perfect S- turns reflected his history. Though older, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t ski well. My mom followed him down the double black diamond, as she always did. Mom didn’t start skiing until she met my dad, and the sport didn’t come as naturally. We waited below for them to come down. My dad rounded a tree, and seeing a cliff on the left, veered right to sweep around it. Mom, following close behind, but without the ability to quickly maneuver, went straight over the cliff. We all watched in wide-eyed horror as she flew through the air. The snow scattered like powdered sugar when she landed. Luckily for my mom, there was a soft landing that day. She looked at us, “Did I just go off that cliff?” We looked to Dad who replied with a large grin, “Nope!”
Like my mom, today I am jumping a cliff. It’s a little scary and I’m really praying for a soft landing. A few weeks ago a publishing house offered me a contract, and now I’M WRITING MY FIRST BOOK!! It’s so exciting and so hard all at the same time. But isn’t that what makes a good story?
When we sit in our comfort zones too long, inertia settles in. There isn’t a reason to grow or change. When I look back at my life, the richest times have been a result of jumping. Sometimes the landing has been hard as stone, sometimes like billowy down, but it has always been worth it.
Risk grows our souls. Because we don’t know what the result will be, it requires that we exercise our faith muscle. And when we do that, our spirit gets stronger.
For some of us, we are compelled to do something that requires faith. For others, there is a call to risk in relationship. Equally difficult, we step out boldly, putting ourselves in a place of vulnerability. It is here we discover new courage that changes us.
A few years ago I took my 4 children to language school in Central America by myself. It was the first time I’d traveled abroad like that with young ones. As the doors of the airport parted, swarms of taxi drivers descended upon us. I felt completely exposed. My children circled around my legs as the drivers spoke loudly and quickly in Spanish. The capital city was not a place to be alone at night, especially with little ones. Our program host never came, and we were forced to take a 2 hour taxi ride to the town where we would be attending school. Huddled in the wee morning hours on cots in a tin garage, tears slipped down each cheek as we circled to pray. It was terrifying. And it was also deeply heart-growing for each one of us.
That trip marks one of the most significant moments of our family’s history.
Where are you being led to let go of the safety rope and jump? I know it isn’t easy. I know it may even be complicated. But jump anyway. Anything worth doing has a bit of challenge to it!
Sometimes finding courage is easier when holding another hand. Grab onto mine.
Let’s jump together and pray for a soft landing!