Brave Enough to Jump

This post was originally published on The Road to Brave.

“I wasn’t afraid to jump or to swim or to feel the sudden coolness of the water.  I was afraid of change. On the dock I was warm and dry and in control. I knew once I jumped I’d be fine, I’d enjoy swimming around. But it was still a change. I thought about Betsy…I knew in my heart I’d be happier with her. I knew she’d take me places that were healthier, more fun, more challenging than I’d ever been. I thought also about how content and comfortable I was being single, how much control I had in my life…”

Don Miller, Scary Close

I paused there, figuring this section was worth a re-read. Maybe re-reading three or four times. 

I was in the middle of planning a wedding, looking ahead to a brand-spanking-new season of life that felt rather like it had abruptly come out of nowhere. I’m a slow-change person, but this shift was more like accelerating onto a busy highway in Chicago. And while I knew that I’d always wanted this, that I deeply loved my fiance, that God was blessing our relationship in spades—to be honest, I was also really terrified of such a massive life change. 

A friend (in a twist of irony, who would later become a brother-in-law) had recommended the book Scary Close to a sister, and I’d borrowed it during a trip home to flip through. Turns out that was a God thing, too. 

“…how much control I had in my life…”

I didn’t realize how much fear I had still hanging out beneath the surface until it got stirred up and challenged by a bigger change than I’d ever faced before. I didn’t realize how much control I had, how much control I wanted. 

I didn’t realize how many places I didn’t fully trust the Lord with. I realized now that stepping into marriage meant trusting God with every remote little corner of my life, and I also realized that I was struggling to do so. 

And I didn’t realize that jumping into something new forces us to reckon in deep ways with those fears, with trust, and with a pretty radical form of courage—one that asks, What really matters here? 

And then leaps and lives it out. 

Sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is wait in a season when we desperately want progress, movement, motion, anything forward. But other times, the bravest thing we can do is to jump. 

Afraid of Change—Trusting the Past to God
Sometimes a season of life is just so doggone difficult that we can’t wait to be out of it. Change ASAP would be fantastic! But I’ve found for much of my own life, I fear change because I don’t feel ready to let go of a past season. Childhood. Adolescence. Living in a certain part of the country. Regular Christmases with all of us siblings home, together, piled on each other around the tree while Dad reads by candlelight. 

Good, beautiful things. My heart holds onto those memories, and if I could physically hang on to a season—honestly, I probably would. 

Growing up. College. Making a difference in people’s lives through work around the world. Marriage. Siblings getting married, moving around, and having children of their own. 

Good, beautiful things. If you asked me if those were good changes, I’d say, Yes! Those are beautiful things. If you asked me if I felt ready to say a permanent goodbye to the last season, and step into the new one, I’m not sure how long it would take me to say, Yes!

But they don’t come without stepping out of a past season. The world doesn’t work that way. We only have two hands. Usually, we have to let go of something before we can hold onto something else. 

Jumping means we have to trust our pasts to God. It means that we have to decide, Yes, I will trust You with all the beautiful things You gave me, even as I step into something new. It means that we have to live in the reality that God knew what He was doing in the years we’ve lived till now, and that we can trust Him with gratitude as we release some things in order to step into new ones. It means that we have to take action on the belief that the future can be as beautiful as the past in God’s hands.

The past can be a beautiful standing stone (or stones) to remind us of the faithfulness of God as we jump into something new (Joshua 4:1-7). We can look at the things God has done. The ways He has grown us. The beauty He has cultivated. The gifts He has given. And we can trust that He is going to keep doing, keep growing, keep cultivating in this new season, too. 

So maybe, instead of listening to our fears, it’s far wiser to take courage from the proven works of God (Psalm 77:10-14) and let Him direct our steps (Proverbs 16:9). 

Afraid of Pain—Trusting the Future to God
One of the personal reasons I’ve often feared “a jump” comes down to a fear of discomfort, of pain, or of regret. I know that in my current comfortable place, things feel safe. I know how to respond, how to react. I have my comfortable patterns and life rhythms. Honestly, I have control. And if I jump into something new, I know things may feel shaky for a while. I won’t necessarily know how to respond or how to react. Old patterns won’t necessarily fit a new time of life. And I’ll have less control over things than I do now. I’m afraid of hurting, of accidentally making a foolish decision and realizing it too late. 

All those reasons sound so silly, don’t they?—all listed out like that. But that doesn’t stop them from hindering us in our everyday lives, like an uncomfortable rock buried deep in the sole of a shoe. How easy it is to say that God is our security, our stability, our Rock, and how hard it is to take a jump of faith onto that firm place and say, Here I will stand. 

Jumping means we have to trust our futures to God. It means that we have to decide, Yes, I will trust You with every corner of my heart, soul, mind, and strength. It means that we have to live in the reality that God is holding the years to come, and so we don’t have to control them. It mean that when God gives direction, we trust Him by physically obeying and moving forward. It means that we have to take action on the belief that as we follow Him, God is bigger than any hurt we will experience or mistakes we will make. 

As I think back, there has never been a single change in my life where God has not shown up. Where He has not carried us through. Where He has not grown, blessed, deepened me—and my walk with Him. 

So maybe, instead of listening to our fears, it’s far wiser to listen instead to the voice of the God Who asks us to trust Him with our whole hearts and lean not on our own understanding (Proverbs 3:5-7). 

When We Jump—Trusting the Present to God
“I wasn’t afraid to jump or to swim or to feel the sudden coolness of the water.  I was afraid of change. On the dock I was warm and dry and in control. I knew once I jumped I’d be fine, I’d enjoy swimming around. But it was still a change. I thought about Betsy…I knew in my heart I’d be happier with her. I knew she’d take me places that were healthier, more fun, more challenging than I’d ever been. I thought also about how content and comfortable I was being single, how much control I had in my life…

I jumped off the dock. 

The water on the surface was cool and got colder as my body sank toward the bottom. I felt all the energy in the pond move into my muscles and when my head broke the surface it felt like a personal sunrise, as though the day were starting over. I breathed in the mountains and the trees and heard my splash come back at me from the hills…I felt better in the water than I had on the dock. I thought about that, then, about how much I fear change, even change for the better. I thought about how there are so many lies in fear. So much deception. What else keeps us from living a better story than fear?”

Don Miller, Scary Close

What else? 

Maybe that’s why, by some counts, there are 365 commands in Scripture to not be afraid. The devil is the father of lies, out to steal and kill and destroy. Jesus is the Truth, bringing us life—life to the full. If fear is full of lies—and by my own experience, it is seldom connected to anything else—than yielding to it isn’t just robbing ourselves of the fullness of life in Christ, it’s yielding to something with incredibly destructive power. Fear is connected to what if, and what if doesn’t reside in the world of reality. And according to Philippians 4:8, our thoughts are to be grounded in the solid bedrock of truth.

Fear says, Change is scary. It says, I need control. It says, It’s safe here. 

And I’ve listened to it so many times. 

Faith says, God is stronger. Faith says, God is in control. Faith says, I’m safe in God’s hands. 

I was challenged recently by the convicting statement that either Jesus is my Lord or He isn’t. There’s not an in-between, a partial relegation of lordship over my life. 

I was challenged less recently by a convicting statement that is still bouncing around in my head, years later—the direction to Choose Your Hard. Change is scary. It’s hard. So is living a tiny life crippled by fear, that looks back and cries, Why didn’t I choose faith instead? And so we choose our hard. Losing control is scary. It’s hard. So is living a tight-gripped life, crippled by stress, that looks back and realizes, God is God, and I am not! And so we choose our hard. Leaving an old normal to step into a new one is scary. It’s hard. So is living a life that never moves forward, never gets bigger than the size of its comfort zone, that looks back and admits, There was so much more. And so we choose our hard. 

On the dock, we may feel warm and dry and in control. But when God is leading us to jump, “the safest place to be is in the center of God’s will.” (Corrie ten Boom)

So maybe, instead of listening to our fears, it’s a far, far sweeter thing to surrender our present—and if applicable, the act of jumping—to the God Who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us (Ephesians 3:20). 

I was afraid to jump into marriage. But, looking back, remembering last-year’s-me curled up re-reading this section of Scary Close, I now can’t imagine a life where I stood on the dock and didn’t jump. Was it scary? Yeah. I think anything worth doing often is. Was it worth it?

Unequivocally.

Will future jumps, like parenthood, be scary? Yeah. I think anything worth doing often is. Will it be worth it?

Unequivocally.

This week, if God so leads, may we be brave enough to jump.