Susan: “Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous
about meeting a lion"
"Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said
anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I
tell you.”
A little over one year ago I finally went skydiving. It was pretty much the only thing on my
bucket list, and it’s been on there for as long as I could remember. I finally “had the chance" (as in I
made it happen) while Noah and I celebrated our 5th anniversary. I’ve always loved that feeling of
adrenaline and couldn’t imagine a better way of experiencing that than hopping
out of a plane at a crusing altitude of 10,000 feet. As we boarded the plane that could BARELY fit Noah, me, our
2 tandem jumpers and the pilot, the fear grew with the height of the rising aircraft. My fear became mangled with
giddy laughs and excitement as the plane crept higher and higher… soon my fear
dissolved like the land below as I realized I was actually about to do this. I wanted to be the first jumper, and it
was time. The door swung open, and
we scooted our way to the edge of the plane. I looked out into the open skies and suddenly found myself
stammering “I don’t’ wanna do this! I don’t wanna jump!” But before my mouth could find any more
convincing arguments, we were free falling. The wind was nuts that day, and I asked the guy to do some
extra rolls in the air... to which he happily obliged. Eventually I felt that tap on my shoulder which meant that I
could spread my arms out and soar like the birds.
And soar I did.
When we landed I asked the guy about that millisecond before we jumped, questioning if he had heard me say I didn’t want to.
He replied, “Yep.
And I knew it was in that moment that we just had to do it”.
I knew then that this post was in the making.
This journey that we have been on with Baby A (who,
news flash, is more like TODDLER A… how?!) has wrecked my soul. I have wrestled with God on so many
things. Things like trust, fear,
faith, hope, and waiting. Things
like joy, love, goodness, and free-falling into His arms. This decision that I made when I was 5
years old, to follow Jesus, was made by a very naïve child. An appropriately naïve 5 year old, but
naïve none the less.
It’s become my belief that true, untouchable joy can
only be felt when you’ve been marked by true pain. I’ve brought, and am still bringing, before Jesus so many of
my wounds and hurts. Hurts that I
have blamed on Him. Scars that I
know He could have prevented.
Questions about His goodness in this broken world. And everyday I will continue to keep
laying bumps and bruises at His feet as I struggle to understand and trust His
ways.
But one thing I have come to believe without a shadow
of a doubt is that He is GOOD.
This quote from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
has been playing over and over in my head the last months. I can’t escape it’s truth. God is anything but safe. We don’t serve Him to sit on the plane
looking at the ground below. There
is a time to sit in the plane… and then there’s the time to jump, and only He
knows when that is. I’m just glad
I’m tethered to His side and not flying solo.
I wrote this post a few months ago, and stumbled on it this morning. I never posted it, but kept it tucked away. I stumbled on it this afternoon, and it pretty much slapped me in the face.
Jumping out of that plane was the most thrilling adventure I've chosen for myself. But the King, the not-so-safe-but-always-good King, has had some much grandeur rides in store for our family, and I'm scared stiff these days. I'm not free-falling and soaring like a bird. I'm bear-hugging our dear Lord, eyes tightly shut, and blindly trying to go through my days as I can barely think about the activity surrounding us. Life has sent me swirling, and I'm white-knuckling my way through life instead of truly trusting Him. It's time to let go.
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