I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. And no, not the cliffs of insanity (movie reference anyone?). Though I have to admit sometimes it feels like that's the best descriptor for me. Rather, I'm standing here looking out of a vast ocean of possibilty. An ocean of purpose and dreams. An ocean of blessings. It's beautiful. And I'm terrified of the ocean. I do not have confidence in my abilities to swim in such deep waters. And there are sharks out there you know. And jelly fish. Did I mention that I'm terrified of the ocean?
So how did I get here? Well, I followed God. He's been taking me on a journey. He helped me shed some dead weight on the trek to this point. He's taught me many lessons about control, and patience, and His divine plan. He has shared priceless insight with me in moments where I thought I could not possibly take on more step. He's let me stumble on some rocks, but He has always picked me up and helped me keep moving. And then I got to the cliff's edge and I stopped.
I'm not here alone. My children and husband and friends and family are with me. Some of them keep pointing to the ocean and gently reminding me that I'm supposed to jump in. I'm ignoring them. I'm busy chasing my kids around trying to keep them safe. We are, afterall on the edge of a cliff. I managed to bring a lawnchair on the journey, so part of my time is spent just sitting here - looking out at that body of water, breeze on my face, and I think......"It's nice here. I could stay here quite a while."
And then my lawnchair gets bumped from behind. I look. No, it wasn't one of my kids. There is nothing there. Then I here the quiet voice.
"Jump in, I won't let you drown. There are beautiful things for you to see. There are beautiful people for you to meet. I have work for you there. Please jump in."
I can ignore that for a while, right?
"Sarah, jump in. You are safe with me."
"You can jump in this ocean with me, full of purpose and promise, and blessings you can't even fathom. Or I can throw you in a sea that will serve only to remind you that you can't swim without me. I will let you sputter and flail until you remember that I am God and I love you. When you remember who I am, and you call out my name I will be there. And as I scoop you out of that swirling sea you will know me - and then we can go swimming together. The choice is yours."
Seems like it's an easy choice, right? Yet for some reason I stand here paralyzed in the chaos that seems to be my daily life. My head knows it's time to get wet. My heart longs for the freedom to jump in with abandon and see all God has in store. But my feet are stuck to the ground. Perhaps Satan is sitting on them. Yep, there he is. He tied my laces together so I'm afraid to take a step and he's on my back whispering in my ear all the fears and failures I've ever known. And he's so convincing.
In fact, he's so convincing that this doesn't feel like a choice at all. It feels like this is all I can do. Sit here. Looking out at the ocean. Terrified to jump in.