The gift of risk

She looks extra small up there. The board sways vertically even with her little weight. And she looks up, right at me, with tears streaming down her down. 


"Save. Me." They plead. 


The swim instructor treads water and tries to encourage her. It is just a jump. With a teacher waiting to catch her. She quakes her head back and forth which sways the board more so she tries to sit down. 


"No sitting." A lifeguard barks. Her job and my baby's emotions clash. 


Another lifeguard climbs the short ladder and begins walking toward my Bird. The movement of a full size person arcs the board precariously. The lifeguard lifts Bird and drops her in the water where the instructor catches her but not until her head goes under. It needs to be realistic. 

Year 2 of swim lessons: jumping alone but still worried. 

I am not a risk-taker. My instinct as a mother is to protect, comfort, soothe. Life won't match my instincts and the ability to meet uncertainty with the confidence of God is a gift I want to give. So we start risking small. And pray big, knowing that a life lived in pursuit of God is adventurous, daring, and brave. 


Writing today with friends over at Lisa-Jo's. Today's word: risk. Join us!

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..