Moments from departing his beloved spaceship Serenity in order to perpetrate a heist that could keep his sinking smuggling operation afloat, Captain Malcolm Reynolds stands eye to eye with ship’s doctor Simon Tam and delivers an ultimatum: “Here we are, doc, on the raggedy edge. Don’t push me and I won’t push you.”
Right now, I feel like Reynolds, standing on the edge of the unknown, staring horrified down at my feet, waving my arms backwards trying to regain my balance on the bare piece of rock representing the last bit of “sure thing” left in my life. My friend Shane and I used to joke about the Creed song “One Last Breath,” the chorus of which began: “Hold me now. I’m six feet from the edge.” When you think about, six feet from the edge really isn’t that close. You can fall down face first and still be on solid ground.
But I’m much closer than six feet; I’m closer than six inches, I feel. And I want to echo Mal’s words to any one who passes by me. “Don’t touch me! I’m clinging to this last bit of earth because I just can’t stand to be in free fall. So don’t make me step off, and I won’t make you step off either.”
Here’s the funny thing, though: nothing good ever came from standing on the edge and thinking about how nice the view is. And even though I’m measuring my distance from the edge in days instead of feet, I know that there is going to come a point at which I’ll be given that little nudge and just plummet, tumbling into the vasty nothingness.
Earlier this year, before I signed up for the World Race, I started to make some decisions that would affect my ability to take this step come September 5. For the first time, I started tithing. I had a real income, and I was the sole arbiter of my money. But I began to realize, through some conversation with trusted mentors and studying relevant passages of Scripture, that my money is not my own. In fact, nothing I have is my own; it is all a gift from the Lord, and I should honor it as a blessing and, as it is not mine and can be taken away at any time, refrain from being too attached.
Then, in May, as I contemplated quitting my job, I took a little step of faith to put myself in a spot where God could show up in my life. Without realizing that my income is God’s hands, I wouldn’t have had the faith to put in my two weeks’ notice and watch Jesus show up, providing for every need and leading me to the mission field.
Those steps forward covered the last six feet between me and the edge of God’s mission for me in the world. And let me tell you – I’m ready to be pushed off, to free fall in faith. I’m terrified, but I know from experience that it is always better to be in the dark in the hands of God than still on the edge by yourself.
Let me challenge you: are you on the edge? Are you still trying to get there? Put your story in the hands of our Lord. So many people have taken that step to become a part of my story, to support me financially, or even start rewriting their ownstory. We’re looking to each other on our own respective edge and saying, “Let’s jump together.”
So ask God to put you on the edge, and wait for him to push you over.
