I've never been graceful. When I attempted the balance beam a hundred years ago, it wasn't pretty.
Thinking the floor must surely be safer, I perfected the somersault. It was working well until one fateful gym period when I rolled, full of confidence, and planted my feet firmly on my ponytail.
Rubbing my bald spot and clutching a handful of hair, I left the gym and my promising career as a gymnast.
Didn't like those dumb gym suits anyway. SO unflattering!
After Don and I married, balancing the pressures of two jobs wasn’t a pretty sight either. Eventually I recognized that I was wobbling precariously with one toe tentatively in the missions boat and one on the Public Health Nursing dock.
The missions boat drifted purposefully from the dock, and I heard the Lord whisper, "How's this working for you, Karen?"
Umm, not well.
I loved my job and all its attendant perks. Meanwhile, the boat was small and tipsy, and I was a novice sailor.
What madness was this?
Yet, I loved the Captain and His first mate. The boat was departing now. Decision time.
On February 22, 2016, I leapt—who am I kidding? I stumbled!—into the missions boat and set sail with my first mate, Don, to destinations only the Captain could foresee. I waved good-bye to my pay check and "security" and, to some onlookers, my sanity.
Centuries ago, two fisherman jumped in the opposite direction. They exited the security and comfort of their boat when Jesus said, "Don't be afraid: from now on you will fish for people." (Luke 5:10b, NIV)
So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything, and followed him. They trusted Him. And I trust Him too.
Any transition—tumbling or otherwise—is safe if we follow the Saviour.