This phrase, "Take Me to the Edge" is a theme for a new campaign at our church, Hermitage Hills. I know that it is a phrase in a worship song sung by some group that our pastor heard a few months ago but I don't know the full story behind it but Poly gave us a short explanation in his message on 2/5.
This phrase, "Take Me to the Edge" is an interesting one to me. Aristotle says, "the mind never thinks without a picture", so the picture I get in my head is an experience that happened almost a year ago when I bungee jumped in New Zealand. It was a cool morning but sunny and beautiful and I was nervous on the ride over to Kawarau Bridge, the home of the original bungee jump. I was trying to play it cool in the van, but I was shaking and not because it was all that cold in the van. I was nervous and even somewhat afraid. (If you know me well, you know that heights are not my forte.) Shelbi, Mark, Wilson and I had already paid for the bungee jump ahead of our trip. It was cheaper that way and I was less likely to not follow through since I already had skin in the game. (A form of self-accountability I guess.)
We arrived at the site, headed towards the registration desk where we signed a myriad of forms that basically said that we acknowledged we were idiots for jumping and that we would not hold the company liable if we died. We did all the briefing, lined up on the bridge (shivered some because it was cold but most of mine was just fear shivers), got fitted for our jump and took our turn. I am pretty sure that Shelbi was the first one to jump that day. I think Wilson went second, then me and finally Mark. I might be wrong with that order, because quite honestly, I was more focused on my experience on the edge than anyone else's. I know that they played some Johnny Cash when we were up there about to jump. I know that the jump is 43m high. I know that I did not want to dip in the river below and quite honestly was not even sure I wanted to jump. When it came my turn, I didn't jump. I just couldn't. In my mind I was going to dive with full abandon like Shelbi, Wilson and Mark did, but I could not. I was on the edge. I had gotten myself to the edge but I could not jump. The operator had his hand on my back and said, "It's your turn." I gave my thumbs up to Sondra and Morgan who were on the observation deck, I think just as nervous as I was, but I could not jump or dive. I just couldn't, but I knew that standing on the edge was only part of the battle for me. So . . . I stepped off the edge and began my fall. Total abandon, but not a head first dive. It was all the courage and surrender I could muster. But it was surrender. I put my trust in that cord wrapped so tightly and so securely around my ankles and I trusted in something because it could be trusted.
Too many times I think too I get caught up in how is this going to look to everyone else around me and miss the joy of surrender. My "jump" was not overly pretty, but it was exhilarating to say the least! And it was one of the best chiropractic adjustments I have ever had with not being on a table!
It reiterated a spiritual lesson for me that God can be trusted. Sondra and I are standing at the edge of some things in our life (and they are good things) and we are trusting Him completely. We are standing on the edge and waiting for the Operator to say, "It's your turn." God is good that way. And He can be trusted. We will keep you updated as the Lord reveals some things to us. Pray that we will continue to trust, discern and follow with abandon.
This phrase, "Take Me to the Edge" is an interesting one to me. Aristotle says, "the mind never thinks without a picture", so the picture I get in my head is an experience that happened almost a year ago when I bungee jumped in New Zealand. It was a cool morning but sunny and beautiful and I was nervous on the ride over to Kawarau Bridge, the home of the original bungee jump. I was trying to play it cool in the van, but I was shaking and not because it was all that cold in the van. I was nervous and even somewhat afraid. (If you know me well, you know that heights are not my forte.) Shelbi, Mark, Wilson and I had already paid for the bungee jump ahead of our trip. It was cheaper that way and I was less likely to not follow through since I already had skin in the game. (A form of self-accountability I guess.)
We arrived at the site, headed towards the registration desk where we signed a myriad of forms that basically said that we acknowledged we were idiots for jumping and that we would not hold the company liable if we died. We did all the briefing, lined up on the bridge (shivered some because it was cold but most of mine was just fear shivers), got fitted for our jump and took our turn. I am pretty sure that Shelbi was the first one to jump that day. I think Wilson went second, then me and finally Mark. I might be wrong with that order, because quite honestly, I was more focused on my experience on the edge than anyone else's. I know that they played some Johnny Cash when we were up there about to jump. I know that the jump is 43m high. I know that I did not want to dip in the river below and quite honestly was not even sure I wanted to jump. When it came my turn, I didn't jump. I just couldn't. In my mind I was going to dive with full abandon like Shelbi, Wilson and Mark did, but I could not. I was on the edge. I had gotten myself to the edge but I could not jump. The operator had his hand on my back and said, "It's your turn." I gave my thumbs up to Sondra and Morgan who were on the observation deck, I think just as nervous as I was, but I could not jump or dive. I just couldn't, but I knew that standing on the edge was only part of the battle for me. So . . . I stepped off the edge and began my fall. Total abandon, but not a head first dive. It was all the courage and surrender I could muster. But it was surrender. I put my trust in that cord wrapped so tightly and so securely around my ankles and I trusted in something because it could be trusted.
Too many times I think too I get caught up in how is this going to look to everyone else around me and miss the joy of surrender. My "jump" was not overly pretty, but it was exhilarating to say the least! And it was one of the best chiropractic adjustments I have ever had with not being on a table!
It reiterated a spiritual lesson for me that God can be trusted. Sondra and I are standing at the edge of some things in our life (and they are good things) and we are trusting Him completely. We are standing on the edge and waiting for the Operator to say, "It's your turn." God is good that way. And He can be trusted. We will keep you updated as the Lord reveals some things to us. Pray that we will continue to trust, discern and follow with abandon.
