The Jump

Yesterday, I was feeling very much like a grown-up. Or, at least, I looked around and realized I had learned a little and had a semi-clue how to do a thing. 

Enter today. Today, I feel like a little kid who knows nothing.

The difference? I’m about to start something new. 

What is it about new things that can get us all upside down in our own heads? The excitement is there, sure, or we wouldn’t want to do the new thing, but it’s kinda like climbing the ladder to the high dive at the local pool. It looks like so much fun when other people go flying off it. But then when you get to the top, your knees get wobbly, and somehow the springboard has soared an extra 500 feet in the air just while you climbed the ladder. Looking up at the platform is a whole lot different than looking down on the water. 

This happened to me in real life. I was about 9 or 10, I think, and man, that high diving board looked so fun! So up I went. I got to the end of the springboard and looked down. Gulp. No way. I am not doing this! So I turned around, walked back to the ladder and started to climb back down. I was slightly mortified seeing how many people were waiting at the bottom for their turn while I was chickening out right in front of them, but it wasn’t enough to cancel out the fear of jumping. And so, before anyone else could call me names, I did it myself.  “I know, I know! I’m a coward,” I called out to the people below, “but I can’t do that!”

I hadn’t taken more than a step down from the top when, from somewhere at the back of the line, another kid shouted back at me, “You have to! You’re not allowed to climb back down!”

What!?? I’m not allowed to climb back down?? I don’t know why it didn’t dawn on me that the kid might have been messing with me. In fact, now I am quite confident there is no such rule that says you can’t come back down the ladder.  But, my young, naive, rule-following self heard those words, and with a sinking feeling in my stomach, I paused on the ladder, took a deep breath, and climbed back up. 

Back to the edge I went. I looked down. “I have to do this. There’s no other way down.” I took a deep breath. I pinched my nose. I jumped. 

And down I went. The fall felt like an eternity. The plunge into the water hit harder than I expected. Further down I went. And then, I came back up. My head bobbed back out of the water, I swam over to the edge of the pool, and I climbed out. I did it!

Funny thing, I remember the anti-climax of that moment. I mean, *I* knew I had just done something huge, but all around me life carried on like normal. People swimming, lifeguards watching, people jumping, splashing, laughing, playing. No one was looking at me. There was no fanfare or trophy; just a dripping wet little girl with the satisfaction of having done a scary thing. I’m sure I went and told my Mom and whoever I was with at the pool, but I don’t remember that part.

I believe that jump changed me. For one thing, I knew I never wanted to jump off the high dive again! But also, I learned that courage is often born of necessity. If you HAVE to do a thing. You CAN do a thing. When you really believe there is no other way but forward, somehow the strength you need is there.

So now, here I am. All these years later, starting a new thing, and I feel like I’m back up on that high dive. And what I really want is to turn around, walk back to where I came from, and climb back down the ladder. And really, you know, I could. I could climb back down and no one could stop me. Because now I know there is no rule that says you can’t come back down the ladder. 

But where would be the fun of that? Where would be the satisfaction of that? No, I think the Lord, in His beautiful, sovereign, guiding way has led me up this ladder. He has provided me with the opportunity to jump. It feels scary, and there would be no shame in saying, “No, thank you, I think I’ll go back down now.” 

And yet, I will not let fear keep me from jumping. Because now I know another thing. It’s not only necessity that begets courage. It’s knowing the One who holds all things in His hands; the One who rules kingdoms and tends nursing lambs. Courage comes from knowing it is not my own strength that I have to count on; but His. 

And suddenly, I don’t feel like a little kid anymore. Because nearly 4 decades of walking with my God have taught me where my strength really comes from. It’s not within me. It comes from Jesus. My Savior. The One who made me and called me and equips me for His good work. 

And this jump…I believe it’s His good work.

There probably won’t be any fanfare at the bottom. Life around me will probably go on like normal. But I will be different. Satisfied. Maybe I’ll be determined never to do this particular jump again. Or maybe, just maybe, this will be one of many ways God peels the me off of me and makes me more like Him.

So here I go. I look down. I take a breath, I plug my nose, and…

Jump!