Jump!

I'm a biggest loser fan. I must admit to it. I'm a sucker for people changing their lives in big ways for the better. In fact, as I tell my children, I'm trying to be the biggest loser myself these days. 15 pounds down, a few more to go.

Anyway, this past Tuesday night, the group went to New Zealand, and they had to climb this sky tower all the way to the top, which was some insane number of stories. Let's just say all the people and cars looked like ants when they got to the top. And when they got up there, enjoying the view safely behind glass windows, Bob bounces in and tells them that they have a choice - climb back down the stairs.... or jump.

My own mind took a particular course as I put myself in their positions. This wasn't just some observation deck overlooking the city - this was HIGH. I'm not intensely afraid of heights, but it made me a little queasy just watching the view from my recliner in my living room.

Surprisingly, all of them were for it except one. And he was probably the only one that was really thinking straight about it. I was with him all the way as he inched his way out onto the launch area. I understood when he was breathing in and out and staring in horror below, trying to imagine himself flying through the air, putting all of his faith in a few cords that were supposed to break his fall and let him land safely on that tiny little X at the bottom.

He waited. And waited. The employee who suited him up and hooked him on said "One two three go!" but he didn't go. And I didn't blame him. But all of the sudden, he got this look of sudden determination. As if he were realizing that he didn't really have a choice. It would be a letdown for him and the whole world watching if he didn't jump. He probably knew that he would regret it forever if he didn't take one more step forward and let fate have his life.

He jumped. And after the moment of extreme terror when he first let go, suddenly his face became relaxed. His arms went out. When he got to the X, he was smiling and cheering. He realized that letting go of fear, embracing the inevitable truth before him was a moment in his life that he tasted freedom.

It occured to me that it must be just like that for someone to make the decision to follow Christ after living in this world into adulthood. I have a hard time imagining it, because I was six when I jumped, and even then, it was more of a formality because I had never made a decision NOT to follow Christ. I deepened my commitment when I was 13, and then again when I was 18, but I have never placed myself on the opposing side where Jesus is concerned.

I imagine it is kind of like standing at that launch area, looking down at all the ant-like cars and people, and trying to understand why it is so important that you jump off and let invisible arms catch you and break your fall. You know you should, you know it won't make good tv if you chicken out, but it's big. It's really big. What will everyone think of you after you jump? What will have to change in your life that you really aren't prepared to let go of?

So many questions. But in the end there is only that still small voice, so loving, so insistent... calling YOUR name. "Jump. I'll catch you. I promise. I've never missed, I've never even come close to dropping anyone. You'll be safe. Much safer than you are on that ledge."

To me - the answer is easy, because I know the voice. I trust him with everything I am, and it's true - he never disappoints. He's stronger than my image of strength can even project.

But when you're the one on the ledge and you hear him calling, what will you do? Will you jump? Will you abandon all and let go of yourself, of your ambitions, of your desire to hide your failure and display your pride and confidence... and admit you need him to catch you?

Because in the end, we all have to jump. And it is our decision how we make that jump. With his help, or to his sorrow.

And if you jump into his arms, get ready for the rush of your life! Get ready to breathe your first real breath of air. Get ready for every dream of your heart coming to life in front of your eyes.

That's what Jesus is.