As a teenager growing up, my friends and I spent many hours during the summer at Willow Springs, a public swimming pool. I loved the water and felt so free inside of it. I had fun turning flips and doing all kinds of crazy antics in the pool. Things I didn't dare attempt outside of the water. I loved the water slides (Willow Springs did not have a slide, but the other public pool had one) and the diving boards. The
low diving board, that is. I dived, flipped, cannon-balled and even belly-flopped from the low diving board.
Then there was the
high diving board. You know, the place where all the brave kids hung out. I was afraid of heights and wouldn't go near it. No amount of peer pressure could coax me up those steps to "the high dive." However, I was determined to conquer my fear so I decided to check out the high dive. I climbed up those metal steps very slowly, much to the displeasure of those behind me. When I got to the top, I clung to the side rails of the platform, far away from the actual diving board itself. It was all I could do to open my eyes and merely look around. The height was overwhelming and dizzying, so I scampered back down the steps, again to the displeasure of those trying to climb up the ladder.
On another sunny day, still determined to conquer my fear and the high dive, I climbed up the ladder again. This time when I arrived at the top, I still clung to the side rails, but managed to keep my eyes open. I slowly eased my way over to the diving board and peeked over it. Still frightened out of my mind, with my heart beating rapidly, I tiptoed out to the edge of the diving board. There was no turning back now. It's either jump or die of fear or both. So, holding my nose and my breath, I took the plunge feet first. (This was NOT the time for fancy diving or cannon-balling or belly-flopping.) The trip through the air was both frightening and exhilarating. I loved the moment of hitting the water (thankfully feet-first), swooshing underwater, touching the bottom of the pool and shooting back up to the surface. I DID IT! I jumped off the high dive!! I felt so victorious!
My upcoming trip to Bangladesh triggered these childhood memories of the high dive. I feel like I am about to take the plunge of my lifetime. Yes, the thought is overwhelming, dizzying and my heart beats rapidly at times. I am about to leave behind the familiar low heights. Two years ago, I took a three-week trip to India and got a peek of a different spiritual realm. The short-lived trip made me desire to go again to those heights. Right now, I am spiritually out on a high diving board and there is no turning back. It's jump or die or both. It will be a straight-forward, feet-first jump. It is not the time to attempt any fancy tricks or risk a belly-flop. If I will take the leap of faith, I already know the Spirit of God will envelop me, plunging me to new depths and then great heights. I will be victorious, because my God is victorious!!
Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts: all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me. Psalm 42:7
