Just Take the Plunge
Confession: I can’t swim.
I took swimming lessons when I was younger, with my cousins, but I quit after a couple of times, cause I was not about that life.
I hated the chlorine. I hated the idea of being underwater — all of it.
I was not created to be a swimmer, and I’ve just accepted that fact. I will settle for just wading in the water. I don’t need to be Michael Phelps.
I also have an irrational fear of open water, which probably doesn’t help my case.
I don’t mind being on a beach and being in awe and wonder about the water’s vastness and beauty. However, I do not find the need to be in or on the water.
There’s a reason God gave me two legs, and that’s to stay on land.
Listen, if the sharks and other sea creatures aren’t bothering me in my space, then why the hell am I going to disturb them in their area? Come on.
This also applies to any sort of water vessel — boats, ships, cruise lines, yachts.
Y’all learned nothing from Titanic?
But what is it about the open water that I fear so much?
It’s the idea of being pulled under that scares the crap out of me.
The idea of being so helpless — that you won’t win against the power of the water.
That at any moment, I could be overwhelmed by the waves or tides, and I won’t survive.
What looks calm and tranquil from afar can be so tumultuous and deadly underneath.
That’s how I feel about navigating my life right now.
I know what God is telling me to do. I can hear it very clearly, beyond a shadow of a doubt. However, it’s what He’s asking me to do that I’m having a problem with.
I know He wants me to step out into this vast body of water and start swimming in faith towards something better that awaits me on the other side.
But…like….I’m just supposed to jump in and go towards some unknown something that MIGHT be waiting for me?
Y’all, I’m a teacher for a reason. I like plans. I like knowing what’s going to happen. I want to have backup plans. I like routines and schedules.
My sister and I took a week-long trip to Disneyworld in 2005, and the night before we would visit a park, I’d sit on the bed with the park map out in front of me, and write out what ride or restaurant we would stop at. I planned it down to the times. We were able to get through every park, hit every ride we want, and make it to the parades with TIME…..TO…..SPARE.
See? Plans are good. Knowing ahead of time is a GOOD THING.
Can someone let God know that? Cause what He’s asking me to do has no plan, no list, no details….nothing.
He just wants me to put aside my fear and just dive into the water.
Excuse me, Omniscient Creator of the Universe, but um, I have a few questions.
What if I drown? What if I get tired? What if I fail? What if I get lost? What if I can’t see the other side? What if I lose hope or faith? What if I jump in only to realize that I wasn’t supposed to after all? What if I’ve just been lying to myself all along and believed something that is not real and completely impossible?
Can you see why I probably frustrate God?
I know that something incredible is waiting for me on the other side. I believe it so HARD.
And, the thing is, I’ve been here before, where God asked me to step out in faith. But I let the same questions and doubts paralyze me so much, that God finally just got annoyed and straight-up pushed me into the water. He was sick of my crap. And, who can really blame Him?
Sure enough, something better was always waiting for me every single time.
So, based solely on past experiences, why can’t I just trust Him this time?
I consider myself a decisive person in so many ways, except when it comes to big, life-altering decisions for myself. That’s when I start hemming and hawing about the what if’s and I drag my feet.
Not to throw another nature metaphor in here, but a few months ago, I asked God to show me a burning bush-esque sign about a decision I need to make about my future. I told Him I need a clear, loud sign that this is what He wants me to do.
Friends, at this point, my life looks like the 2020 Australia bushfires, and God’s just standing there going, “Well, dummy, here’s your sign!”
And I find myself asking God, “Yeah, but, HOW CAN I BE SURE THIS IS THE SIGN I ASKED FOR!?”
Stepping out is scary, and, more likely than not, I will probably get caught in an undertow. I will 100% get tired, and I will entertain the idea of giving up.
Yet, as much as I know all those things and I know that it won’t be easy, I also have to know that it will be worth it all in the end, right?