a SPIRIT OF ADVENTURE
I am simply not an adventurous person.
And no other event in my life illustrates that better than the first--and last--time I went tubing.
I'm not entirely sure how I wound up tubing in the first place. I was peacefully puddling around in the middle of the lake (not too shallow, not too deep) when my sisters ran up to the end of the dock and yelled something at me. To this day, I don't know what they said. But they kept gesturing frantically, so I followed them.
Somehow, I wound up holding on to a giant inner tube dealie behind a boat that I'm pretty sure was going the speed of light.
All the while, our friends were shouting helpful instructions from the boat. But it's hard to hear "Lean back, you're going to nosedive!" through exactly a million and fifty-two gallons of water.
Did I mention I also get motion sickness?
I endured two or three nosedives before I hauled myself up and out of the water and onto the first boat headed back for the shore.
Don't get me wrong. Adventures are all good and fine . . . when in a controlled environment. You know, books, movies, and the like. Let their world be turned upside down and shaken out with more than a few explosions.
I will watch from my room with a set of headphones and a quillow, thank you very much.
But here's the problem--adventures find us whether we want them to or not. Things change. As safe and familiar and comfy as things were, they won't stay that way.
Maybe they can't. Maybe we need them to change. If things never changed, we'd just stay in our sweet spots, never venture out, never try something new. Can you imagine your life if you'd never tried the book that is now your favorite? Can you imagine your life if you'd never tried your favorite food? Can you imagine your life if you'd never tried your new favorite pastime?
Some adventures are not so easy to ride out, though. Some adventures sweep through like a forest fire, burning everything we knew to the ground. A move to a different state. Families change. Graduating school and figuring out what to do with your life now. Meeting new people. It's not fun. It hurts.
But it's adventure. Whether we like it or not.
My head knows that I need adventure, that I need change. My head knows that whatever is on the other side is better than where I am right now.
But what if it's not?
You too, anybody?
I've found there's only one thing to do when adventure comes to call. Strap on your backpack and jump. Do something. What if when the next big change rushes through your life, you thought of it as your next adventure? Something that will make you better? What if you just tightened your grip on the things that truly matter and held on? What if you take that first step on a climb?
It may be big. It may be small. But it will be something.
You know how I know? Because I know there's Someone Who goes with us on all our adventures. Even better, He's gone this way before. He knows exactly what's around each bend. Whether or not I like what's around the bend, He will catch me when I jump.
I still don't like tubing. But I can say I tried it. Not every adventure will turn out the way we expect it to or even want it to. I guess they call that faith (aka, the craziest thing in the world). Not knowing what you're being called into, but following anyway.
Even if it leads you to an inner tube dealie going the speed of light.
Hi, I'm Rachel! I'm the author of the posts here at ProseWorthy. Thanks for stopping by!