Falling into Fear

There’s something heroic that happens when your toes converge with the edge of fear, when they graze the line between safety and all out war. Because you jump. Of course you jump. You jump because you must. You jump because of the maybe. And you see nothing but dirt beneath your feet. You see nothing but the crash landing and the broken bones. But you jump.

 

And while you focus on the fall, you forget that you might fly. You forget about the sun and the clouds and the breeze, because you see only the soil and the fear and the plummet. But you jump anyway, don’t you? Because while the ground seems inevitable, something inside looks up at that big, blue horizon and says, “what if?” So, you jump for the “if.” And sometimes you just might find the answer you never expected. Right there — soaring on the other end of fear.

 

There are times that I forget I’m there — flying so high that my feet have nearly forgotten how to land. But the truth is that I’d never have the chance to fly had I never fallen in the first place. Because you must be willing to fall in order to know that you can fly.

 

But I see it so clearly now, how each plunge into the unknown landed us right where we were meant to be. How our move to Georgia provided us with the opportunity for better healthcare, how our move back to California landed me in the office of a doctor who didn’t write me off like all of the doctors I had seen before, how that same doctor led me to the very surgery that finally fixed our years of infertility. I see it now, how all of the falls led us to you.

 

But I fought them all — the falls. When my toes brushed the edge of fear, they grasped so tightly to the safety of the dirt beneath them that they nearly developed permanent blisters. It’s silly, really. Looking back now I see that we had to fall. We had to fall deep into fear. Because each of those falls landed us in a specific place for a specific purpose. And though scary, I count it all worth it — all of the jumps, all of the fear, all of the unknowns. They were all worth it. Because here you are. Right where you were always meant to be.


Jumping is scary. Do it anyway.

  

Let's chat!

2 thoughts on “Falling into Fear

  1. I loved your Blessed is She reflection today and now I see your blog is beautiful as well. Thank yoy for blessing us with your thoughts.

  2. I must admit that I had been avoiding looking at your post sad for myself although genuinely happy for you despite the fact we have never met. I had commented before shortly after my husband and I lost our daughter inutero at 38 weeks. I was absolutely deveatated, but had restored hope through adoption. Lately I had been feeling very discouraged feeling as if it was never going to happen. It is so expensive and our latest idea for fundraisers is not gaining support as we hoped. I just read your most recent post and was touched. I could almost hear your words coming from me to our adopted child (when he/she finally comes home) that we had to fall, we had to experience the hurt to truly appreciate what God leads us through in adoption. You gave me hope that we will get responses for our fundraiser (hiking 50 miles for sponsorship) that God will bring our child home to us. Congratulations Brittany and thank you for sharing your hope with me.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.