We don’t grow unless we make ourselves respond to the opportunity. 

I tend to categorize myself as a pretty adventurous person, usually eager to try to new things, go new places and mix up the normal routine. Exploring new cities, cuisines, music, movies, people and ideas are all easy. In fact, I like coaching others to branch out, grow, try, make a memory. 

But  sometimes I only choose the adventures in which I know am going to succeed. Or when the cost of failure doesn’t seem too steep. Or when people aren’t watching. This weekend I’ve seen some fear of man pooling in my heart, drowning out some of my adventurous leanings.

Yes, I so want to play the guitar with you! I know you’re patient and supportive. If I play I’ll just show you how incompetent I am so maybe I’ll just let you think I’m being humble. Yeah, my nails are too long. And I’m not good enough yet.

Opportunity missed.

I’m a decent catch with frisbee, even if my throw is bad. I’d love to get better and the only way to improve is to practice! But those people are so good; they will just be annoyed with me. Yeah, you guys go ahead. I’m happy to watch.

Adventure wasted.

Why do I have these random moments where I lack in confidence? What is it about other people that makes me shrink back? Even amongst good friends what keeps me from being myself? Who’s responsibility is it to foster a safe environment for adventure and growth? Do I stifle others? Do people around me feel unconditionally welcomed and supported if they want to try something new?

Another opportunity took me deeper into this concept of adventure. This weekend I didn’t make it to the top of the giant sand dune like everyone else. Between my sprained ankle and cantankerous knees, I had to stop shy of the final plateau. But you know what? I climbed higher than I thought I could. And that’s how in my weakness — in the midst of my failure — I found success.

And there, on the warm sand, I faced the Pacific Ocean, closed my eyes in the midday sun and let the cool breeze tease pieces of my hair loose. Amy sat with me. We talked about weakness and value. I told her that when we let anything other than Jesus define our value we will be hurt and disappointed. People, jobs, desires and strength will always fail. Only Jesus is steadfast. Only Jesus sees our true worth. Only Jesus defines what really matters.

Adventure redeemed.

I can’t do everything well… and that’s okay. On my own, I hate being weak and incapable. But God doesn’t value me for musical talent or athletic prowess. He doesn’t even value me for quiet times or sharing the gospel. He sees me through Jesus and that is enough. More than enough. It’s perfect. And that truth changes everything.

Author Ed Welch says this in his book, When People Are Big and God Is Small…

“All experiences of the fear of man share at least one common feature: people are big. They have grown to idolatrous proportions in our lives. They control us. Since there is not room in our hearts to worship both God and people, whenever people are big, God is not.”

And so, I come back to the thought that we don’t grow unless we make ourselves respond to the opportunity. To be adventurous, we have to choose to say yes when we are awkward and uncomfortable. We have to look to God in that moment and let Him be the determiner of our value, not the people we think are watching. We grow because we laugh at the fear of man and decide to be interesting and true instead.

And, of course, “being adventurous” isn’t the greatest goal. But seeing Jesus and being free from fear is surely a worthy cause. And thus being adventurous is merely a vehicle of godliness. It is for me, anyways.