I’ve been spending a lot of time with Donald Miller lately. And naturally, I’ve developed this intimate relationship with him; it’s totally one-sided of course (on account of him not even knowing that I exist), but it is intimate nonetheless and very meaningful to me. Two very important things have come out of this fledgling relationship—the first being the realization that my soulmate will have to be as brilliant and evolved as Donald, and the second being that Don (we’re on a shortened name basis nowadays) routinely heart-checks me. It’s fantastic! Don is constantly making these pithy observations on life and faith that keep blowing my mind. This one in particular has been ringing in my head since I first read it:
“There is a time when every person who encounters Jesus, who believes Jesus is the Son of God, decides that they will spend their life following Him. Some people, like the Apostle Paul, make this decision the minute they meet Him, the minute they become a Christian. Others, like the Apostle Peter, endure years of half-hearted commitment and spiritual confusion before leaping in with all their passion. Still others may enjoy some benefits of God’s love and grace without entering into the true joy of a marriage with their maker.”
—from Blue Like Jazz
I’m terrified of belonging to that last group. The thought that I might only be dabbling in a relationship with God horrifies me. But I’ve been doing so much of life half-heartedly and keeping so many people at arm’s length that I wonder if I might not be in their number after all.
The first month in the Philippines flew by. We spent a lot of time with the kids at the school we were helping renovate, and I watched my teammates give so thoroughly of themselves and love those kids without restraint. I was jealous. I spent a considerable amount of time thinking about my general condition of needing to hold myself together to keep from falling apart during this time. I examined all the symptoms of that tendency—how I don’t seem to miss people much, how my life is littered with relationships that start with a bang but end with a whimper, how I unconsciously resent my friends for not knowing enough about me even though I’m the one hiding from them, I could go on, but …
How do I solve this?
We went to a waterfall during our first weekend in the Philippines where we could jump off a cliff into spring-fed water. Going into it, I was confident it would be an easy thing of just leaping into the water, resurfacing, and going on about my day even though I don’t know how to swim. It wasn’t a particularly high or threatening cliff like some I’ve seen in magazines or online, so how hard could it possibly be, right?
Wrong.
Standing at the edge of that cliff, my legs strained to take the leap, I was suddenly and violently overcome with fear and the worst sort of anxiety. It was the sort of fear that feels like a living thing, with its grimy, vise-like grip holding me back from jumping. I couldn’t see the bottom of the water (which in retrospect is probably a good thing) because it was so blue and awfully deep. I stood at that cliff for a moment and an eternity. I stood there long enough to have the undivided attention of everyone at that waterfall. Their cheers and encouragement came to me muffled and limp as if through a windstorm as anxiety howled in my head. I kept faking the jump but never quite following through. It was miserable.
Tears started to well up in my eyes, and it was all I could do to not lose it where I stood. Mary, one of my teammates, came over to me and offered to make the jump with me. I meant to take her up on it; instead, I heard myself say no and that it was crucial I made the jump on my own. So she prayed boldness over me while I fought back angry tears. It seemed in that moment that everything depended on me making the jump. Life itself hung in the balance. If I didn’t take the leap, it would set the tone for the rest of my Race and even more than that, my life. And because I don’t relish a lifetime of always faking jumps but never following through, I had but one option left to me—jump.
So I jumped.
I leapt into the emptiness, eyes wide open, muscles still tight from the effort it took to fling myself into the eternal space between the cliff and the water below. I thought the elation would be instant, but it eluded me until after my head cleared the water, and I got a handle on the floating device that had gone before me, and the wild applause of the onlookers broke through the fog of panic I was in due to how long it took me to resurface. The point being that although it took a while, it still came—that indescribable joy of knowing that I had done something absolutely worth doing, it came.
I asked earlier how I solve the problem of keeping people at arm’s length and living a lukewarm life, and it is the divine genius of God that He answers our questions even before we’ve asked them. This thing I’ve just described needed to happen at the very beginning of my Race because I needed to learn that I’m making progress. I needed to know that He had begun His good work in me, and with each new experience, He fine-tunes me a little more.
Maybe in the past I lived safely, maybe I haven’t loved as well as I should, maybe I used to conduct my relationship with God tepidly, but that’s not me anymore. Nowadays, I’m the one who jumps off cliffs, I’m the one who hurtles into the unknown with my eyes wide open so that I don’t miss anything on my way, I’m the one taking giant leaps of faith. I’m the one entering into the true joy of a marriage with my Maker.
I’m about to make my own pithy observation about life and faith, bear with me: staying put atop the cliff is a valid option, but I’m here to tell you that all the joy, all the miraculousness, all the freedom is in the water. You just have to jump in.
My third financial deadline is quickly approaching, and I’m in need of $2,614 to meet the goal. Please consider it prayerfully and donate as the Holy Spirit moves you. I believe that I’m right where He wants me, and I’m confident in His capacity to provide what I need to keep up His Kingdom work. This is an opportunity for you to sow into the Kingdom as well, and I pray that you will take it. Thank you so much, and God bless you.
