Monday, August 30, 2010

Are You All In?

In the summer of 2006 I asked a buddy of mine to come and teach at the upcoming fall retreat for the call (the name the young adults, over which I pastored for 8+ years, gave themselves to reflect who they desired to be; people walking worthy of the calling c.f. Ephesians 4:1-6). While I can not remember the specifics of the messages he brought that year, I will never forget the theme and the impact it has had on my life everyday since. After agreeing to speak, my friend forwarded a picture to me (below) with the theme of his teaching in the form of a simple question, an invitation if you will, about ones’ philosophy of commitment in life. I was stirred by his invitation because although it was not new to me, it did reflect the single most significant question I have ever been asked or ask of others; Are you all in?

I see great beauty and danger in the picture; adventure, risk, color, life, strength, movement, stillness, unknown… Questions arise; How deep is the water, how high is the cliff? What risk is involved, how big is the rush? Do I look that good in a swimsuit? Would I jump? Am I all in?


It was summer in Oregon and there was an old iron bridge, now relegated to only foot traffic, that would testify to whether or not I was all in this day. My friend Jon had taken me to Hi Rocks Park on the Clackamas River near where I grew up, to prove my masculinity (or kill myself trying.) Initially I could not overcome the fear of the jump, but in an attempt to save face in front of my friend (and the thousands of observers that patronized the river that day) I finally climbed down under the bridge to the pipes on the bottom and suspended myself by my hands clinging to the lowest part of the bridge until fatigue demand my fingers release and my body fall to the water 20 feet below. Without hesitation (or reason) I returned to the bridge, climbed up the rail and jumped the 40 feet to the water… but that second time I experienced a different (out of body) experience… In the moment when my shoes left the rail and my body escaped the reach of the iron, something inside of me felt like it leaped in the opposite direction of my movement to return to the safety of the bridge now fleeing fast above. Again on the bridge the third time I experienced the thrill and beauty of being all in for the first. My fear of death was tempered by the hope of life, the successes of overcoming in the past now spoke truth of the adventure ahead, the glory of transcending the accomplishments of the spectators on the shore tasted sweet in my soul. The day concluded with countless victories over my iron foe and the triumph of battle well won.


I have been “all in” now for many years. And, there are new proving grounds that I am faced with every day; greater heights from which to hurl myself, unknown waters to enter and treacherous journeys to navigate. I wish I could say that I never take time to climb to the bottom and cling to the “pipes” of life that make me feel secure until fatigue demands I succumb to the truth of glory. I wish I could say that there is never any part of my heart that seems to flee me for the apparent safety of yesterstep. I wish I could say that I always experience the freedom of flight and the exhilaration of risk without hesitation, but I can’t.


I am about to jump again… Is there risk? Absolutely! Will I die? Not today! Am I watched by spectators who will each have vantage points that affect how they perceive my bound? Certainly! But I have jumped before and lived. I have tasted success and glory. I have experienced life and loved it. Truly God is relentless in His kindness to me. Geronimo!!!