I jumped out of a plane last week. A real one. The kind that flies.
I wasn’t nervous, not even when I was in the sky on my way to 11,000 feet. Actually, not until I was sitting on the edge of the plane, the wind whipping in my face and the ground flying past me. In that moment, I realized the only way for my feet to end up back on the ground was to jump.
Take a leap of faith.
If you’ve never been, let me tell you, it’s a long way down. I mean, I could hug clouds from where I was. I think I jumped through one or two.
There were some very distinct emotions that I went through from the time I realized that it was really happening until the time my parachute opened. So about 30 seconds, or so.
As I was sitting on the side of the plane, there was an intense fear that washed over me. What had I done? Why was the ground not good enough? Was this adventure really something I needed to move on in my life? There really was no good reason I needed to jump out of a plane, except I’d always wanted to and I just knew I’d be better for it. I didn’t know how, I wasn’t sure why, but I just knew. And sitting on the edge of the plane, there was no turning back now, so it didn’t really matter why.
When I started plummeting toward the ground, I knew I had made a bad choice. If I survived, I would surely regret the foolish decision I had made 11,000 feet below. There was nothing about this that was good for me.
But then, I realized… I WAS FLYING. And there was a rush that washed over me. A calm. A moment of clarity where I knew my life would never be the same, and I would be better for it. I could never put into words exactly what it felt like, but I am a different person than I was before I jumped out of that plane. I grew in unspeakable ways in just those few seconds.
To me, skydiving is a metaphor for the Race. I spent years deciding when I would finally commit to going skydiving, much like I did with the Race. There’s was always a reason why I couldn’t go. Time. Money. Fear.
Right now, with about a month until launch, I’m sitting on the edge of the World Race plane. I’m here, and it’s too late to turn back. Not that I really want to, but the fear of the unknown, of what could happen, is permeating ever part of me. But there’s only one way back to the ground.
Take a leap of faith.
As I sat on the ledge of that real plane, I asked God to keep me safe. I would take in every moment of the experience, I just needed Him to make sure that I got back to the ground without… well, without dying. And as I sit here on the edge of this World Race plane, that’s really all I can ask. I’m going to be scared. I’m going to wish I had made a different choice. There will be moments that I regret making this decision. Moments where all I’ll want is to be planted firmly on the ground.
But there will be a moment when I realize that my life is better, I am better. I will experience a calming bliss, much like I did when I was soaring through the air last week. One that won’t be matched by any other time in my life. In that moment, I’ll know that I have made the right decision. Any fear and regret that I have will be washed away.
God is calling me to the Race because I have something to learn, because I need to grow. And I can’t do that if I keep my feet on the ground.
‘Til next time. XOXO.
P.S. If there’s something you’ve been thinking about doing, but have been holding yourself back from, take that leap of faith this month. Stop giving yourself reasons for why you can’t do it. Pray for the strength, courage and guidance you need to get it done. To cite my favorite bible verse:
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
And to quote Miss Frizzle from The Magic School Bus:
Take chances. Make mistakes. Get messy! 
