Dear [ ],
I’ve been thinking, and praying, about our conversation. Yes, we want to be as safe as we can. On the other hand, we don’t want to be so protected that we’re afraid to take any risks in life. I see that in us–a hesitancy to stretch ourselves, to step outside our comfort zones. Some of that is temperament, and some of it is the environment we’ve created.
That said, while I of course don’t want anything bad to happen, I think we need to consider:
We’ve always wanted to [ ], and have even prayed about it. Repeatedly. And the Lord has provided the means. If that’s not a message from God, then I don’t know what is.
Besides, by dishonoring the gift, we dishonor the Giver.
The fact is–whether it’s this, that, or the other–anything could happen to anyone–anytime, anywhere.
Individually, we could: slip, and fall in the shower, hit our respective heads. We could get into accidents on our ways to work. Or countless other things.
In the case of this particular [ ], while nothing in life is ever 100%, I believe we have reasonable assurances of relative safety: God has supplied all of needs according to His riches in glory, and sends His angels to keep watch over us.
I’m concerned that, by not stepping out, we’re sending ourselves–and those watching–the wrong message: that life is something to be feared, rather than something to be experienced. Here’s thing: God gave us life, and we–no matter what happens–are always in His care.
We have to entrust ourselves into His ever-capable hands.
I don’t say any of this to discount your intuition, your uneasiness, but rather to point out that we have reasonable assurances. Because it is in laying down our lives that we paradoxically find them.
Life, like God, is not safe–but it is good. (If you would contest this point, consider carefully in what meaningful sense the omnipotent Creator of the universe is “safe.” He is certainly, indisputably good, and is a rock of refuge. But there is a vast difference between being “safe,” and being a safe haven).
My gut, my hunch, my intuition–my spirit–is telling me it’s time to loose the apron strings a little, and let go. Because what happens when the next [ ] comes along? What do we do then?
What I come back to us this: if God didn’t want this to happen, He wouldn’t have provided the means for it. We have to trust that God knows what He’s doing.
In other words, we take it on faith–because life is not a balance sheet, an actuarial table. It’s not neat and tidy, but messy and often grimy. No more can we afford to be afraid to get our hands dirty.
You see: our very lives depend upon it. And faith does not grow without taking risks.
Do we have that? A faith the size of a mustard seed?
What do you think?
Awaiting your reply.
Your friend, Chad