A Choice and a Voice

This morning, I found myself lying in bed contemplating jumping off the high dive this year on PE fun day.

I'm sure those of you who know me are as flabbergasted as I am.

In my younger years, I climbed up to the high dive, trembling in line, at least once every year on PE fun day, only to find myself ashamedly muttering "excuse me, excuse me," and sliding down the stairs.

It was not until late high school that I finally realized I didn't have to jump off the high dive if I didn't want to.

What a wonderfully freeing thought! I didn't have to "prove" my courage to anyone, I didn't have to climb those stairs, and face that terrifying ledge if I didn't want to.

I haven't thought twice about leaping off the high dive since. Until this morning.

I had just finished Lisa Harper's book, Overextended and Loving Most of It. It ends with a scene where a dad and son both take a leap of faith off a cliff into water. She challenges us to live like that - taking chances.

That's how I found myself considering the high dive.

Obviously, I'm not saying that jumping from the high dive is going to make me "level up" in my faith, or move me closer to Jesus. But I do wonder if my new levels of freedom from anxiety and fear could handle me making that leap of faith.

Which brings me to my point: the importance of a choice and a voice.

Relationship where you do not have a choice or a voice is not relationship, it is terrorism and tyranny.

While it is not obvious in the small scale, when viewed large-scale, this is painfully apparent.

For example, if someone suddenly burst into my room with a pistol, and shouted at me to come outside, I would - rightly so - feel frightened! Why? Because I, my safety, my autonomy, and my feelings are obviously of so little value to this person. I don't matter.

When we are consistently deprived of having a choice and a voice, even if it's in small things, like what to wear, what to read, where to go, entertainment preferences, how to spend our time, the message we receive is I don't matter, and this is crippling.

If I don't matter the world is necessarily a frightening place, because nobody will look out for me, except myself. If I don't matter, I am not loved, because you can't love something that doesn't matter. If I don't matter, I have to work really hard to always be pleasing, or I'll be abandoned.

This perception of myself twisted and distorted my view of God. I believed I don't matter more than I believed God loves me. He has brought me to a new understanding of myself though, I do matter. As I replaced that internalized lie with the truth, I began to learn that I had choices in life. God didn't want me to be miserable (Yes, I honestly believed that serving God = you MUST be miserable)! I could make wise choices about serving Him that also brought me joy.

I learned that I could tell Him, "I want this, or that" without feeling guilty about voicing my desires, and knowing that my wants went into His consideration for my best.

As I learned that I matter, I also began to work through my fears and anxieties. Since I matter, other people are looking out for my best interest. Other people care about what happen to me. God cares about what happens to me. Since I'm not alone in the world, the world is not as scary.

I have a choice about what to do, what not to do. I have a choice about what to wear, and what not to wear. I have a voice in decisions about me, ranging from big life decisions to what movie we'll watch on netflix.


Which brings me back to the high dive. I might just choose to jump off it, just to see for myself how much fear has been conquered in my life.

On the other hand, I might not.

It's my choice.