Sacred Risk

Since I was young I would watch people do something brave and envision myself joining in. In my daydreams I would be walking out on Lake Michigan ice, cliff jumping, and performing on stage. In my doubts, I would stand back longing to be the person who had the courage to risk everything for that moment. A moment of freedom, a moment where fear did not win. 

I had a dream last night where I went cliff jumping with my family. I had no expectation to jump, but somehow I worked myself into a position where my only option became to let go.  Everyone, including myself, was shocked when I told them I was going to go. Time stood still as I flew through the air, I felt my body hit the water and I went deeper than I imagined possible. 

I am about to risk everything in my life.  I worked myself into a position where the only option is to let go and trust Papa God.  It’s exhilarating in one moment, scary in the next, sacred in another.  

Sacred risk. A risk connected to God.  I suppose it is the sacredness of the risk that makes it both exhilarating and unknown. 

Some would argue that risking with God is no risk at all. I disagree. There are plenty of things that we risk when partner with God’s plan for our life.  We risk everything we hold dear that is not Him, we risk our preconceived notions about who God is, and what He is like. We are risking our definitions of success. They question is not if there is risk, but if the risk is worth it to us. If He is worth it to us.

I am walking on my dreams. They feel like frail ice in an early Michigan winter. I can see the deep blue waters below my feet. Something inside me knows how deep they are. 

I go further because I see His hand stretched out to me.  His hand holds everything I need. 

I glance back to see a younger me skating close to shore. Safe. She has no fear of what the next moment will hold. Yet, even from here I can see the longing in her eyes. She wants to walk out.  Deep inside her spirit she feels the call, but fears the risk.  

My gaze shifts from her back to His hand. Going back would not be the same. I have gone too far. I have changed. Each step changes me. I take another step. Small, shaking, but committed. They next one will come a little more confidently. The miracle that moves me will also sustain me. 

I have become the person who walks on ice, jumps off cliffs, and walks onto stages. I live in the freedom I once envied. I have come to realize that those people are not special, our legs still shake, but the sacred risk is so worth it.