The Trouble with Risk…
Like any distant storm cloud on a sunny day, looming on the horizon, risk waits like a phantom ready to strike. Ok, maybe that’s just how I see it for right now.
As both a planner and a dreamer, risk is that silent stranger linked to every great idea or new plan I come up with. The dreamer sees the potential, the reward, the impact of what a great new idea I’ve got. Then the planner perfectly and methodically strategizes every detail and design. And THEN… the reality of risk sets in.
The truth is risk comes with every new venture and every step outside of my box. It’s nice to dream and think of amazing new ways to change the world. We see the future, and it is bright and magnificent. We see the majestic sight of Jesus in the midst of the storm. And then He has the audacity to come and ask us to meet Him there on the waves? What?! No, no Jesus. You got this. That’s all you. You’re God. I’m just going to scavenge Pinterest and just look at other people’s pictures of how cool you are. I’m not going to step out of this data plan, walk out of this perfectly good boat and meet you there on those waves. How could I? You’re God, and clearly I am not. My flawed friends and I—we are the one’s who got ourselves stuck in the middle of this storm in the first place! How could we ever behold your glory and walk on the same waves you did?
The trouble with risk is that it hides the fact you are in a position of power. You might ask, “How could I be in a position of power?! I see the storm of this situation and I can feel the waves of doubt. The pressure is building and it seems failure is inevitable.” But what you don’t see is the fact you are walking on water, taking each step towards an amazing experience with Jesus. Risk tells you that you might fall and you could lose everything. It hides how far you have come and blinds you to all opportunity. The trouble with risk is that it is always there after every step of faith. Even after committing to an amazing adventure, challenging the norm and doing something so different from everyone else, it’s still there.
Most people don’t like risk. I know I do not enjoy the feeling of knowing all that could go wrong. But I wonder for some people, if the lingering feeling of risk is worse than staying in their comfort zone and never following through with their dreams. I hope it’s the opposite for me. I hope I can deal with the fact that risk will always be there, but I don’t have to focus on it. I can take one more step over those waves and take on something so contradictory to popular culture. While most of my peers are fresh out of college, diligently working corporate-ladder climbing jobs, I am working as many hours as I can so that I can volunteer almost a year of my time in eleven different countries. People don’t do these kinds of things. But there’s something in my heart that wants to know what it feels like to have the rushing waves under my feet and see the light in Jesus’ eyes. So I go.
(By the way, if you are reading this and have no idea what scenario Jesus is walking on water, check out Matthew 14:22-36, Mark 6:45-52, and John 6:16-21.)
