$6.99 Cargos and Reversible Fears

I was talking to the cashier at our new Old Navy store the other night . . . about the New Zealand trip. I talk to a lot of folks about it, even if I’m the only person that makes sense of the segways. Even people in my church know me as “the guy going to New Zealand.”
I was shopping for rugged jeans and cargos for the trip, as I don’t think I’ll want video footage of me in shorts (or my currently-large jeans) at various stages of inertia. So, I was explaining this to the cashier, as her conversations probably end most of the time with the denial of an Old Navy credit card.
“I could never do that kind of stuff” she said. She cited her recent child as her reason.
“See, though” I said, “I’m too scared to have a kid.” I was trying to reassure her that we all have courage in different places.
But it’s true. While I can’t count on my fingers the number of people who’ve told me I’d make a great dad—including my wife—it’s easier for me to fly half way around the world (utterly afraid during turbulence) and then jump off a 632-foot building ledge than to start a family.
And it’s larger than just the concept of procreating. I’ve talked to friends hands deep in real estate investing . . . don’t have the courage for that, either—even if convinced it’s the best way to a secure financial future. I’m not big on risk, at least not long term.
Jumping off a bungy platform lasts seconds; our base jumping fall lasts only 20-some seconds. If something were to go wrong, there’d be only a brief recognition of the pending end. If it’s a standard result, I still don’t have to hold my breath longer than 20 seconds.
There’s risk of injury that could be long term, but I can be convinced of consistent outcome through certification plaques, photos, testimonials, and videos. The risk of death affects others long term, but I’m okay with the life and legacy I’ve created—enough, anyway, not to think beyond the moment.
“But aren’t you self-employed?”
Yes. And well enough so to afford New Zealand over Kings Dominion for my thrills. But God built my business despite my lack of courage, blessing me while I backed into entrepreneurialism. The obvious and sovereign steps, in retrospect, make me wonder how I doubted God’s plan for me and BiPlane Productions, Inc.
I wrestle with the future, with the unknown, with the variables that could rock my world. I’m a worrier, and I’d rather jump off Kiwi water falls than shake up a friendship with needed confrontation. Worry is long term; adrenaline-style fear is temporary. And I would rather scare my body into a rush than work through hardship. I’d rather give God my Sundays than my plans. I’d rather write books and encouragement cards than minister in person.
But I hope that, as I grow into adult-size courage through spiritual direction and life experience, my childish stunts in New Zealand might make me deliberate less and do more. Step without pacing. Plan without worry.
And jump in faith.