Abundant Life isn’t a Spectator Sport! (and a birthday give-away)

Five years ago, our first-born girl crossed into double-digits.

That baby who had brightened our world with smiles as big as the Grand Canyon suddenly needed all of her fingers and thumbs to count her age, and this mommy who wished she could lasso time and slow the rush of years suddenly needed all the energy she could muster to keep up with the life that oozed out of our adventurous ten-year-old.

It’s not every day that a girl celebrates the first decade of her life, so on that sultry August morning, we packed the van with sunscreen and beach towels and hauled a gaggle of giggly girls to a nearby water park to party with a splash.  The aquatic center was home to snaky water slides, a walloping wave pool and a sprinkler–studded playground. But the park’s main attraction was the Rage, a  ride that loomed four–stories high at the top of a tall timber tower.

The Rage boasted a lofty blue slide that plunged its riders down a two–hundred foot drop to a small pool of water no deeper than my bathtub. Its appearance was as daunting as it’s name, but despite it’s intimidating stature, the sky-high spectacle drew a steady thread of adventurers. Swim-suit-clad thrill-seekers wound up the wooden staircase like a dripping wet party streamer and landed in a colorful clump atop the narrow platform that marked the slide’s start.

One by one, my daughter and her friends made their way to the platform. I watched as they plummeted down the Rage and landed with a victory whoop at the bottom where I stood cheering. I captured their first flights on film and then headed to the sun deck where I stretched out for a rare moment of relaxation.

Eventually, the birthday girl and her pals found me hiding behind my magazine and sipping a Diet Coke. With dramatic embellishment, they proffered brag-worthy accounts of their fast and furious falls down The Rage. The girls all talked at once, their excitement swelling around my little sliver of quiet like the waves in the nearby wave pool. When the stories waned, my daughter stuck out her suntanned leg and showed me the shiny purple bruise on her thigh. She flashed me a proud grin and explained that she’d been  body-slammed against the side of the slide as the rushing water had pushed her feather-light frame to the bottom.

“Isn’t it cool, Mom?” she’d asked as she circled her battle scar with her scrawny pointer finger. “It’s like evidence that I’m braver now that I’m ten!”

I giggled at Lizzy’s enthusiasm and then helped our courageous party guests apply a second round of sunscreen.  I pulled out the camera and snapped a few pool-side photos and  promised to keep watching the action from my lawn chair.

“Come back when you’re ready for lunch,” I said as I waved and watch the girls walk back toward the water slides.

I let my eyes drift once again to the magazine on my lap, and I reclined my lounge chair.

But moments later, the birthday girl was back. “Come with us this time, Mom,” she said as she reached for my hand and tugged it upward. “Please… It will be so fun!” Her friends all danced around me and echoed her enthusiasm.

I glanced over my shoulder at the sky–high slide and felt my stomach somersault.  “I don’t think moms are allowed on that one,” I replied with an apologetic grin.

But my daughter refused to be deterred. “Come on, Mom,” she pleaded, her blue eyes fixed on mine, “It would be the perfect birthday gift”

I took one last look at the daunting ride and tried not to peek at the purple battle scar on my birthday girl’s thigh.

Finally, I relented my arguments, slipped off my flip flops and followed the party posse to the winding wooden stairs of The Rage.  

Moments later, I stood at the top of the towering ride and looked down at the splash pool below. My legs grew weak as I watched my daughter and her friends sling their delicate bodies over the edge of the slide and speed to the shallow finish.

Soon, I was the only one left on the wooden platform. The wind whistled like a lonely dirge and four stories below the party posse jumped up and down and waved their hands above their heads in anticipation of my rookie run.

“Just lie on your back and give yourself a push,” the lifeguard instructed, smacking her bubble gum and twirling a silver whistle around her pointer finger. I tried to ignore the nausea rising in my stomach while I inched toward the slide’s start.

Tentatively, I stepped into the swirling wetness and tried to quiet my mental rant.

I was enjoying the party from my lawn chair.

I lowered my body onto the slide and shivered.

The water is freezing!

The drop looked daunting from my perspective. One push and I would lose control.

What am I doing? I’m not a thrill seeker. 

I took a deep breath (and held it all the way to the bottom), reclined in the cold water; then grabbed the side of the slide.

I closed my eyes and pushed my trembling body over the ledge.

Water spewed into the air. My heart jumped to my throat. My backside momentarily lifted off the slide and then battered the side wall with a thump.

Adrenaline rushed and the birthday girl screamed with delight as my body came to a splashing halt a the bottom of the rushing plummet. “You did it, Mom! Wasn’t that awesome?”

I stood to my feet and realized I was still in one piece. I turned to revel in the sight of the watery path I’d just braved, then I flashed my ten-year-old a victorious smile.

That wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was pretty fun!

I tossed my dripping arm around my daughter’s slender shoulder and she asked, “Shall we do it again?”

My double-digit-girl laughed and pulled me toward the staircase with a happy skip.

As I scaled those wooden steps again (this time without the knocking knees), I realized that The Rage is an apt picture of my life with Jesus.

Christ invites me to join Him on the adventure of abundant life. He knows what will thrill my heart and fill my soul.

But sometimes his simple, “Come with Me,” leads me to places that look frightening and uncomfortable.

I long to obey my Savior and follow Him with abandon, but often, the hardest part of obedience is simply taking that first plunge.

I want you and your family to move. 

“Are you kidding, Lord? I’m happy right here in my lawn chair. See? I have friends, a great church, a thriving ministry….”

I want you to surrender your career plans to Me.

“But, Lord, I don’t want to climb that ladder. I want to pursue these dreams…”

It’s time to give your husband the reigns. I created him to be the head of your family. Get out of the way and let him become the man I’ve dreamed him to be.

“But, Lord, he’s too busy to lead well. He doesn’t have the vision I do…”

And for every argument I have, Jesus urges: Just trust me and take the plunge! 

It’s been many years since I’ve stood atop the daunting Rage, but my Marvelous Maker continues to whisper to my soul like a persistent double-digit birthday-girl once did.

Come on, Alicia! Abundant life isn’t a spectator sport. Join me for this wild ride!

Day by day I’m learning that the true thrill of faith begins when I push my wary heart over the edge of my comfort zone and follow my Savior’s lead.

With each step of trust, I am learning to unfurl my fingers and surrender my grip of control. And each time I do, the plunge becomes less frightening.

Sure, there are moments when my stomach drops to my toes and my heart thumps wild in my chest, but when I reach the end of myself, Jesus is always right there, cheering me on with delighted applause.

And when I finally catch my breath, I hear Him say, Wasn’t that an awesome ride?

How did you like those splashes of joy? 

Did you feel your heart lift off the ground and soar?

Then, as I get back on my feet, He grabs my hand and beckons, Come on! Let’s do it again!

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Our firstborn daughter can’t count her age with two hands any more. Now she needs to add a whole foot to count those double digits!

Elizabeth Grace is fifteen years old today, and I’m so grateful for the gift of my life-loving, adventure-seeking, Jesus-loving girl.  

In celebration of Lizzy’s birthday, I’m giving away two copies of this beautiful book that will inspire you to live life to the full. This new devotional by Creation Health is packed with fifty-six stories that capture the adventure of following Jesus. Inside, you’ll find my account of “The Plunge” as well as many other inspiring tales of abundant life.

To enter to win a copy for yourself, just leave a little”gift” for my birthday girl in the comments by answering this question—“What’s your best advice for “living life to the full” at fifteen”?

Or, if you’re pressed for time, just write, Happy birthday, Lizzy!

And speaking of birthdays, this lovely coffee table book would make a fabulous present for someone you love. If you’d like to grab one for a family member or friend, you can pick one up here.