Somewhere in between middle school and freshman year, our youth group took a trip to Kings Island. Kings Island had this fairly new attraction called the Xtreme Skyflyer. It looked like a metal replica of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. Skyfler is skydiving, meets hang gliding, and then just a lot of swinging. You could ride this with two or three brave souls. My friends Tara and Angie were more than excited, and I was scared poopless (If you know me at all, when I get nervous I have to use the bathroom A LOT). The time between when we got in line and got harnessed up involved a lot of prayer from me. We get strapped into the harness and it immediately flips us face down. When we tipped over, I started screaming “I want off, let me off, I’ve changed my mind,” and the operator told me no!
As the lift cables elevated us to heights over 153 feet, my fears were rising and my stomach was in knots. On our way up, we were singing, laughing, and doing a whole lot of praying. When you get to the top, the operator comes on the microphone and says “3,2,1 fly”... and then it is up to one of your people to pull the ripcord. My friend pulled the ripcord and there was a slight pause, a pause that could rattle your universe wondering if we pulled too hard. The cord was yanked, and gravity released the arrow that had been stretched back and held for as long as it could and we shot through the air. FREE FALLIN’. The initial drop is what got my stomach. Your vantage point on the way down is that you could slam into the concrete, but we barely missed it and swung back and forth like the old pirate ship ride. The swinging was enjoyable and my fears of death had vanished. I felt invisible and on top of the world after the Xtreme Skyfler.
For years, I have dreamt of being more involved at Kingdom House and finishing this book I started about three years ago. While I have been dreaming of this, I knew that my paycheck paid certain bills and have put off taking this leap for a while out of fear. Being pulled up by a harness is uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Josh and I planted our church eight years ago, and in its entire existence, I have been working full time. The Lord has blessed us so much and moved despite our availability and has brought us amazing comrades to be the hands, feet, arms, and all the things we just could not be. I didn’t love the feeling of being a bystander to a ministry I am so personally attached to. The ultimate bottom line is it’s hard to lead people where you have never been and worse, where you are not willing to go yourself. Josh and I have partnered with the Holy Spirit to set the table for people to dream and take risks, and have faith. I knew now was the time to resign from my job, but it has not been easy. My oldest son, Connor, will be in 8th grade this fall. I knew that if I stayed long enough for him to get to high school, I would stay four more years. Then if I stayed four more years, my youngest would be hitting middle school and it would only be a matter of time before he was in high school too. If I did not get out now, I wouldn't. I write this like it was an easy decision, but that piece of it made this choice very difficult. There will always be a part of me in the years to come that will grieve having that experience with Connor. But here’s the thing, it’s either grieve that experience with him or have a heart that is sick from a dream deferred… either way it hurts. The evening I resigned at work, I had my first ever panic attack. The full weight of my decision hit me and I felt like I was upside down on that Xtreme Skycoaster again. What if this dream of mine and this decision flops? What if I put my family at potential risk? I felt exposed. Starting over in something new, or at least new to what I am used to at almost 40 is SCARY. Since I resigned, I feel like I have been stripped down. When we got into that harness, we had to take off our hats, our shoes, and empty anything in our pockets. One of the scariest parts of that ride was how incremental and slow the lift cable took us up to the top. Stepping out in faith will force you to pass every buoy of comfort you knowingly clung to and the ones you never knew you rested and relied on. Our faith has to rest on the solid rock of Jesus Christ and Him alone. Our political positions, our tax bracket, our insurance policies, our retirement funds, the cars we drive, and every other source other than Him has to be laid down. My last day of work at Collins is this Friday. I am in the harness, and I am being pulled little by little since my resignation to the top. As I move closer and closer to the jump, I keep seeing what used to be my solid ground. I’m locking arms with Jesus and the Holy Spirit to launch into the unknown. Interviewing my replacement today is a faith punch. I know what I am walking away from but I do not yet know fully what I am walking into in this next season.
“It’s not what God’s taking you out of that’s incredible, it’s what He’s taking you into” ~ Graham Cooke
Jesus asked me this weekend if I could embrace mystery over management? I have walked out of a room and now I am waiting in the hallway. I know I am tired of eating fear. Even if this does not go the way I have envisioned, He’s still worthy. He’s still worthy of me emptying my pockets, taking off my shoes to have Him wash my feet and bless them for this journey, and He is worthy of whatever crown I have.
Bill Johnson says that “If I truly believe that nothing is impossible for God, then I owe Him a lifestyle of risk.”
Even if I have to be rescued by the life preserver of Jesus, I will know that I got my cloak drenched in faith tried, and walked out and I have so much peace in that. 90-year-old Melissa can look back and say I trusted God enough to give him EVERYTHING. It’s almost time to hear Him tell me “3,2,1, Fly.”