Diving In

My grandma told me once that there are two different kinds of people, those who dive in the pool and those who use the steps. This left me confused as to my place in the world as I stand at the deep end trying to work up the nerve to jump for about 45 minutes until someone gets sick of it and pushes me in. I dread the shock of the cold water. I know I'll get used to it eventually, but the thought of those first few frigid moments is enough to keep me from the Marco Polo game everyone else is thoroughly enjoying.

This fear of discomfort is often repeated in my life in a multitude of different ways. I often find myself missing out on opportunities to know people because I am too afraid to be transparent with them. I shake at the thought of being known as I truly am, insecurities and all. And how can I expect people to share themselves with me when I am unwilling to take the first step? This is something I have been thinking about often as we begin to transition out of life here in Portland. I reflect on those people who have mastered this skill of transparency and how blessed I have been through their honesty. I see myself reflected in the light of their love, radiant with acceptance and the mutuality of struggle. We were created for fellowship with one another, to encourage and strengthen each other as we strive to become holy as He is holy. When will I learn to humble myself before God and lay my brokeness before His feet in recognition of His healing grace?

Because of the grace I have been shown by others who bear His name, I feel like I am a step closer then I was yesterday.