I’m afraid of heights.  I get dizzy.  The world starts spinning.  Even hanging Christmas lights on a six foot house ladder makes me woozy.  Yeah…I definitely hate heights.

Unfortunately, following Jesus is more like cliff-diving than smooth-sailing.  We’re naturally wired to find balance…to find stability…to find calm (at least most of us…some of you are weirdos), but I have news for you if you’re a Christ-follower:  get ready to jump.  And once you’ve found the courage to jump once, get ready to jump again.

You see, God’s calling is to radical discipleship, not a safe, country-club, Christianity-as-a-subset-of-the-American-dream kind of discipleship.  We’re called to see life through His lens, and I’m learning that God’s perspective usually requires reckless abandon.  Sorry.  I don’t naturally like it either.

So if you want to follow Christ…I mean really follow Christ, get ready to risk.  And once you’ve found the courage to do it once, get ready to do it again.  If you’re searching for flat and easy terrain, this might not be for you.  But if you want to find life…real life…life at its fullest, swallow hard, fight the butterflies, nudge your toes right up to the edge, and embrace the free-fall.

Oh yeah, and when you’ve finally found the courage to leap, don’t get too proud of yourself. Suit up and get ready to do it again.  God is forever calling us further and further into Himself, and each part of the journey requires risking more and more of what we know.  It’s a wild ride, but this self-prescribed seeker of safety is finding there’s absolutely no greater way to live.

I’ve started to change the way I pray for my kids.

I think we all have this dream of what life should be like.  It’s a little different for all of us, but regardless of location, race, or socio-economic background, we all want good things for those we love.  So we dream of our son becoming a doctor, our daughter the CEO of a fortune 500 company, or at the absolute least a marriage providing all the comforts of the American dream:  2.3 kids (still struggle with the math there) and a two-story house in the suburbs with a picket fence.  Your picture may be a little different, but suffice it to say we want the best for those we love.

Jesus said to pray “…don’t let us yield to temptation but deliver us from the evil one.” (Mat. 6:13)

That verse says a lot about protection from sin and physical harm, but very little about keeping us naive and sheltered.  As a father, I often fear that sheltered is what I desire.  I want my children to be happy, to love their lives and feel secure.  But God never promised happiness.  He did promise purpose.

So my prayer has changed, or probably more my perspective on the same prayer.  I still pray diligently for protection from sin and physical harm, but I’m beginning to pray that God makes us dangerous in the way we live.  Not “bungee jump off the nearest skyscraper” dangerous (although that could be fun), but bold and courageous.  Jesus called us to radical discipleship.  If that is lived out through 2.3 kids and a picket fence, I’m great with that.  But if it means feeding AIDS orphans in Swaziland or serving the poor in inner-city LA, I’ll celebrate that too.  I’m praying for dreams of purpose, not happiness.

Keep us safe, but not sheltered.  Make us bold.  Make us courageous.  Make us dangerous.

An ownership mentality in ministry is a dangerous thing.  Sorry to say but there’s no equity in the Kingdom of God…at least not in this life, and definitely not for you and me.  Part of the purpose of this blog is my own accountability…to write things and share them publicly so that I’m more likely to live them out privately.  As I prepare to partner in the leadership of the launch of City Community Church, I want to go on record now as saying:  the vision may have been co-birthed inside of me, but by no means does it belong to me.

It’s a subtle shift of mindset, yet polar opposite at the same time.  One is selfish, the other selfless.  When I begin to act as if I own my ministry, my church, my leadership, my position, I begin to try and preserve what I have.  It changes the way I teach, the way I treat people, the boundaries I’m willing to push for effectiveness…even my willingness to step away if and when I need to.  Ownership causes me to pull in instead of push out.  To guard instead of release.  To be fear-filled and paranoid instead of faith-filled and courageous.  To play it safe and not to risk.

Ministry is not a career choice, it’s a stewardship.  So my challenge to all of us, whether you’re the full-time pastor of a large church, or the volunteer leader of a soup kitchen…hold it loosely.  It’s not yours.  Now I know you’d never say you have an unhealthy hold on it, but check your heart…check the subtlety of your thinking.  It creeps in unexpected.

Hold onto things loosely enough that whenever God speaks, there’s no hesitation in responding.  Don’t make Him pry it out of your cold, dead fingers.

I’m noticing something interesting about the mindset of a builder:  everything is fresh and new, all paths are undiscovered, theories are untested, and risk is easy.  After all…there’s nothing to lose.  Literally.  When I’m working to create something that does not yet exist, risk is not difficult.  Really, what’s the other choice?

But what happens when time has created something worth holding onto?  That’s when we begin to manage, to protect the successes we’ve already achieved, the “assets” that have already been amassed.  Cue red flashing sirens and danger alerts.  When we stop dreaming of God’s future and start managing God’s past blessings, we’re on the doorstep of a catastrophe.

I’m writing this today as much as anything to hold myself accountable.  Human nature, no matter how well-intentioned, naturally reverts to protectionism.  And success may just be the worst culprit.  As we plant City Community Church today, it’s easy to risk.  Five years from now, will that risk be so easy?  Undoubtedly no.  That’s why today the question must be asked:  when current building begins to become future management, what are we going to force ourselves to risk?  God’s purposes are never found in only managing the past.

The name of my blog unfolded from a huge dose of sobering reality. I’m a relatively “safe” person…plan, figure things out, pick the logical, safe route…always follow the voice of God, but really take your time and make sure you’ve analyzed all possible outcomes and know all the risks involved.  You know…hedge your bets.  Eliminate the unknowns. Not all bad, unless you allow it to control you.

Fortunately, I’m learning an important yet difficult lesson:  the amazing adventure of following Jesus is found beyond the risk.

As Gary Haugen, the president of International Justice Mission says in his book Just Courage:  “Do you want to be safe, or do you want to be brave?” I don’t want to live as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death.  I’m far from being there, but I hope this blog documents well the life of a man striving to discover the heart of God that lies beyond the risk.