Letting Go of the Edge

“Come on, G! You can do this!” I cheered as I attempted to coax my youngest child into the shallow end of the pool, sans Puddle Jumper. Her toes curled around the rough concrete edge and her fingers seemed to dig into it, as if the surface were made of sand instead of cement.

“I can’t do it, Mommy! I’m too scared.” She refused to climb in on her own, staring me down, waiting for me to relent.

“Grayson, baby, you can trust me. I’m right here. I won’t let you get hurt. You can count on me. Just let go.”

She never did let go. All summer long, that sweet five-year-old, the last of my three ducklings, was fully dependent on various flotation devices or the safe arms of willing family members. She missed so much because she refused to let go of the edge.

“Just let go,” I would plead.

“Trust me,” I begged.

Her fear was enough to keep her frozen. She ended up missing out on all the fun she could have been having—splashing with her friends, perfecting her cannonball, and playing mermaids. Eventually, she could have made it to the deep end, where the real fun is.

Instead, she stayed close to me, ever-so-cautiously surveying the aquatic situation and reminding me that next year she would be ready to swim. Not now, but later. She would trust me when she was ready.

Although her hesitation was a bit frustrating, it was also uncomfortably familiar. I am notoriously cautious. I don’t like danger or anything unpredictable. Spontaneity gives me hives. I prefer an orderly, drama-free, low-risk way of living. What I’m getting at is that my little apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I was even older than she was when I finally took my first jump off the side of a pool.

But I know the freedom of that first jump. I know that when she reaches the surface, arms and legs finally finding their rhythm, she’ll want to do it again and again. The first jump leads to another one, then another, until finally the fear is gone and only excitement remains.

As my patience dwindled, slowly draining into our local pool, I heard a tiny whisper ask, When will you trust me? When will you let go of the edge? It was the gentle voice of the Lord. The one who knows exactly what I need to hear, and who so often uses parenting as a teachable moment for my soul.

I had to ask myself some honest questions: Was I trusting him? Was there evidence of trust in my daily life? If not, what could I do to walk out the trust I professed to have?

For months, God pressed these questions on my heart until I had no choice but to believe he was trustworthy. It wasn’t easy, but I started by handing over the smaller details of my life. I’m pretty good at getting by on my own power. I can make it day to day without help from anyone. I’m an army wife, and we get stuff done. But when I dig deeper into that kind of thinking, I realize I will always come up short. No matter what I try to do, I will always be lacking when I attempt it without God. I have to trust him to handle the large and small details of my days.

Okay, great! Now, how do I walk out this trust? you ask. Tell God you trust him, tell yourself you trust him, and remind yourself that the Sovereign God of the universe is trustworthy and in control. Repeat as necessary. Probably often.

Here’s the best part: Once you begin to trust God, your grip on the edge of the pool gets a little looser. Your toes uncurl. You stand on the edge, looking down at the water. Finally, you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and jump. Once you hit the water for the first time, you’ll want to do it again and again.

As you learn to trust God in the smaller parts of your day, it’s exciting to see what happens when you trust him with the larger aspects of your life. Believing God’s plan for you is good allows you to rest in knowing that no matter what, he’s in control. And when you’re ready, he’ll show you he’s been preparing you for the deep end.

I recently went to Cambodia to partner with a ministry that works with children caught in sex trafficking. In just a short time, I was able to connect with some of the kids, as well as with members of the Cambodian staff. They have become part of my extended family—my brothers and sisters in Christ. On the night we left, I felt like I was abandoning people who needed me. Like I was leaving behind loved ones who needed my help and encouragement and love. But God, who had been trying to gain my trust all winter, reminded me that I could entrust my Cambodian family to him. That he holds them in his hands just like he does me. As our plane ascended into the sky, Phnom Penh below us, I believed him.

Trusting God isn’t easy. We must be willing to let go of the edge—to take a risk, to try something new and a little crazy. You never know, maybe he’ll take you to the deep end, where all the fun happens.

Let go of the edge. Trust him. And make a big splash with that cannonball of yours.

Becky Yurisich is a full-time Army wife and mom, and an occasional teacher of first graders. She is an unapologetic follower of Jesus and the University of North Carolina Tar Heels. Becky holds a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education from UNC, and dreams of writing a book. She blogs at beckyyurisich.com.