Sabbatical day 16- Painful Risk

My Dad is a quiet man. He never made me attempt something by cajoling or raising his voice. It was always just quiet encouragement. My mother on the other hand, with her beautiful red hair and Irish blood was a bit more direct. Volume control was never my moms forte'. This was never more true than the summer of 1983.

We had rented a space in a beautiful campground in northern Ohio where we would enjoy the freedoms that only people who camped as children will fully understand. I loved camping as a child. It was a full weekend of endless bike rides, s'mores, puzzles, hot dogs and hamburgers, water slides, laughter and music.

This particular campground was special though. It had a high dive. To me it seemed to get lost in the clouds. It towered in my imagination hundreds of feet higher than it actually was. It was epic.

On the second day I learned how to dive under the tutelage of my patient father on the low dive. Above me, I began to notice that children my age were jumping off the high dive. I was excited to try until I saw that "that kid".

Everyone knows a "that kid". He's the best athlete on the team. He's very much aware of this fact and is somewhat of a bully. He wasn't jumping off the high dive, he was diving off the high dive. His hair cut was cooler than mine, and his bathing suit wasn't bought at a thrift store. The girls followed him around like he was some sort of celebrity. You know, he was "that kid". I found out that he was the same age as me but he seemed much older.

Competitive is an understatement when it comes to my personality. Charles R. Osborne III can tell you probably better than anyone else. After beating me in ping pong one Sunday afternoon, I kicked a hole straight through his drywall. Ben Lashey can tell you how competitive I am in any sport we have ever played against each other in. Holly Syswerda Grate is literally afraid to watch us play tennis.

So I approached my father and said, I want to dive off the high dive. He encouragingly said let's do it. My mom loudly said LETS DO IT!! So I made my way up the ladder of either doom or stardom, I wasn't sure yet. When I reached the top and saw how high it actually was, I climbed right back down. No way man. It was like I was standing in the clouds. Dad continued to say encouragingly, let's do it buddy! Mom continued to say, LETS DO IT BUDDY!!! Up and down, up and down, up and down. Finally my dad took me aside and said that he would swim out to the deep end and be there when I dove. So I climbed again. And this time I actually made it to the end of the board. Frozen. Like a statue. Dad continued to encourage from below. Then it happened. I looked over and saw my moms hands go up to her mouth making a makeshift megaphone which she did NOT need and she screamed "JUMP YOU BIG SISSY!!!!!"

Hysterical.

I don't know if I dove because of boldness or a sense of panic, but I got to parallel with with the water. The sound of the smack was so intense that I am sure it is still echoing in space somewhere. I didn't sink. I just sort of stopped abruptly on top of the water. Gasping for air and beginning to panic, the first thing I remember is the loving strong arm of my father gathering me up and taking me to the side. After I had stopped crying he and my mom both came over and said "Ready to try it again?" I said yep! Up the ladder I went.

I learned a major life lesson that weekend that still applies today. Almost everyday I am faced with the stairs of a high dive. In parenting, in being a good spouse, in relationships, just to name a few.

Being a Christian, from a certain perspective is the greatest risk of all. Or at least it was for the early church. Stephen found this out Acts 7. Becoming a Christian may cost you your life if you take risks. Christianity may lead you into persecution if you take risks. Faith may cause you to lose your job, friends, and all your belongings if you take risks.

It seems, that we have become more and more comfortable with the shallow end of the pool when it comes to risk. We are content with a safe, risk free version of Christianity that costs us nothing.

The first thing I remember feeling when my body hit the water was the strong arm of my father. When it comes to risking your comfort for something greater than yourself, we always have that promise. In this life or the next.

Psalm 20

 May the Lord answer you in the day of trouble;
May the name of the God of Jacob defend you;
2 May He send you help from the sanctuary,
And strengthen you out of Zion;
3 May He remember all your offerings,
And accept your burnt sacrifice. Selah
4 May He grant you according to your heart’s desire,
And fulfill all your purpose.
5 We will rejoice in your salvation,
And in the name of our God we will set up our banners!
May the Lord fulfill all your petitions.
6 Now I know that the Lord saves His anointed;
He will answer him from His holy heaven
With the saving strength of His right hand.
7 Some trust in chariots, and some in horses;
But we will remember the name of the Lord our God.
8 They have bowed down and fallen;
But we have risen and stand upright.
9 Save, Lord!
May the King answer us when we call.

So ask your self. What part of my Service to God involves risk? Am I taking any? Or am I content swimming in water where my feet are always touching the bottom?