Leaps

The Way You Spell Faith

Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash

Dear Treasure,

In Hawaii, my dad once jumped off a towering cliff. With a huge leap into the blue water below, he turned gasps and wide-eyed stares into cheers.

The jump was risky, but he did it. He hit the water and surfaced to applause. And while I do not recommend jumping off tall island cliffs, it does inspire me to think about the reward of good risk.

John Wimber once said, “Faith is spelled r-i-s-k.”

But I don’t like taking risks.

“Fortune favors the bold,” goes the old Latin proverb.

I see this truth in many stories—the writer with no money who risks their finances to write a book, the entrepreneur who sells their car to start a business, and so on.

Personally, I like to play it safe. But even playing it safe is not entirely safe. The world is unpredictable; everything can change in a split second despite my efforts. There are many things I don’t have control over.

I don’t want to take a risk because something could go terribly wrong, and the risk might seem like a bad choice in hindsight.

Yet, not taking risks feels wrong too. Sitting next to a dormant dream, feeling quiet resentment towards yourself, others, and the world because you were too afraid to follow your passion or longing for adventure, is a heavy burden.

The irony of taking risks is that it often leads to failure. We see this in inventing. Many engineers are encouraged to "fail fast and fail forward," knowing that failure is a step towards success.

Good risks lead to growth.

Not taking risks or trying can result in stagnation and discontent.

Despite knowing this deeply, I still struggle to take risks or chances on myself. This stems from a lack of trust. At the end of the day, those engineers trust, despite the risk of failure, that it will eventually work. And they and the world will hopefully be better for it.

Trust is an essential element of risk. My dad, jumping into the water, trusted (at least a little bit) that he’d emerge safely and have an exhilarating experience.

My dad trusted and took the risk.

To take a risk, we need at least a tiny bit of humble trust, hope, and bold expectation.

Right now, I face choices that could be great, but the risks torment me, driving me into a fearful state and causing deep cognitive dissonance.

Trust is so hard.

But it doesn’t have to be.

Trust can be built and strengthened.

And it can help us have the confidence to make big beautiful leaps.

I’m working on trusting God, people, and myself again while wrestling with doubt and fear. I want to become the person I long to be—more loving, confident, and courageous.

That requires faith. And faith is spelled r-i-s-k.

What do you need faith for this week? 💌

I'd love to hear from you and come alongside you in faith—leave a comment or reply to this email. 📝

Thanks for being here,

Ash