Adventure Worth the Risk

When I tell people much about our recent story, how we’ve pulled up the stakes, left our home of ten years to move to another place where we knew few people and had no set prospects for an income–all because we wanted to explore a better quality of life by focusing on pursuing our God-given passions and gifts–I usually get a predictable array of responses. Some people say they are happy for us (and the loved ones in our lives genuinely seem to be); but some say it a bit wistfully, as if to add, “I wish I could do that.” And some say it, but it’s apparent they don’t mean it–because when someone takes that kind of a leap (especially if it is successful), it flies in the face of the excuses they’ve made for themselves not to pursue their own dreams, and the bitterness in their soul causes them to resent the ones who’ve done it.

And then there’s this oft-repeated response: “You guys are so brave to take that kind of a leap. I wish I had your courage.”

Umm….

….

Look, I really wish I could take credit for that. I really do. Nothing I’d like better than for people to see me as brave and courageous. But while I’ve had a blast so far (and no regrets), the truth is I’ve spent much of this time scared spitless…because like most of us, my dreams lay waaaayy outside my comfort zone, in a realm where I am not in control. I am not a huge risk-taker by nature; control-freaks rarely are. Yet I seem to have taken quite a few risks in the past number of years.

That’s probably a good thing. But it isn’t because I’m brave. (Although with time, I’m getting more brave–I’ll allow myself that much.) 🙂

It’s an unfortunate trait of human nature that for most of us, the only time we change is when the pain of the status quo outweighs the pain of change. Looking back, this is probably the main player in every major change I’ve made in my life. Our family moved to Tulsa 10 years ago to start a new ministry–a legitimate dream in our heart. But while the dream was there, the timing of that move had little to do with the dream. We moved to Tulsa because our nest had been stirred in our previous place, and the discomfort became so great that we were compelled to move. Our departure out of institutional forms of church bears the same marks, even though it was a gradual shift for us. We grew more and more uncomfortable with the status quo, more and more hungry for the deeper things of God–aspects to God and ministry and mission that the church as we knew it didn’t represent. Hunger is more than desire. Hunger is pain. 🙂 So as we got hungry, we moved further away from the status quo.

Same basic thing with this move to Denver. The dream of a life of creativity and mission was certainly birthed in our soul, but the thing that made us lunge toward it was pain. We didn’t come to Denver because we were brave; we came because we were dying inside while everything around us was disintegrating. If you have a choice between jumping into the ocean and staying on a burning, sinking ship–you will jump. The risks of the unknown outweigh the things that are certain. 🙂

So we jumped.

So I guess you could say this leap of faith (or stupidity, as some might call it) wasn’t because we were courageous as much as it is that we have a low tolerance for pain. 🙂 That, and because we prayed a crazy prayer that essentially gave God permission to remove our comfort zones again and again: “God we want all You have for us in this life. Whatever it takes.”

[Wince.]

Thing is, lots of people disqualify themselves from such risk-taking when it comes to their dreams. I have been one of those people in more ways than I care to admit. I think a lot of times it’s because as miserable as we might be in our current situation, it’s still our comfort zone. We develop a high pain tolerance when time after time we resist the urge to jump. We tell ourselves we might fail if we try (never mind that we will certainly fail if we don’t try). Controlled failure is still more comfortable to us than the risk of disappointment or humiliation. So we become experts at managing our pain instead of letting it be the motivator to propel us toward the risk. And when the pain gets too great–we find ways to medicate, to deaden the pain. To forget.

But what we don’t realize is that in our mad efforts to escape or manage pain, we are missing the chance to live in a greater story. There are definitely fewer guarantees outside the realm of our comfort zone, but I can look at my own life and say that some of the best moments of my life have happened outside my comfort zones, in places where things were uncertain. Those moments would never have happened otherwise; I would have missed them. And for all the great moments I’ve had, I’ve also missed a lot of moments by choosing to hold onto comfort. (Regret is also a form of pain that can move us.)

Since coming here to Denver, I’d love to tell you it’s been a bed of roses, but it hasn’t. There’s been a great deal of uncertainty, a lot of fear, a lot of pain as we confront our inner limitations–and some disappointment as well. But not. one. regret. We are more alive in this adventure, more in the moment, than at possibly any other time in our lives. And the exciting thing is that we have seen miracles along the way–the hand of God moving in our behalf in ways that don’t seem to happen when we insist on being in control of everything. Moments of great joy, great relief, great contentment and satisfaction. Almost every day in our small family, we tell each other how glad we are that we made this move, how much we love being here. It’s an adventure worth the risk.

And now the risk-taking is starting to bear fruit. (Warning: proud parent brag alert.)

Our son The Director has been working for a year and a half on a short film–not a little kid handycam video, but a serious short film which he wrote and directed, which we think showcases his natural abilities. A completely DIY effort with a shoestring budget. Last week, it was completed. Everything in place. DVD in the box. Nothing left to do with it. Done. It’s actually his second short film, but in the strange timing of things it’s the first one to actually be completed.

Just in time to enter it into film festivals this year, including Sundance. Another chance to take risks.

It’s an adventure. And it’s worth the risk.