I will trust and not be afraid

img_4026-newIn my previous post, I left you at a ledge with a decision to make: Would you stay content in the darkness or would you move toward the light?

That ledge is daunting. You have no idea how far the drop is or what you might find below — if you survive the fall. To jump would mean losing control. It would be a leap of faith — belief without logical proof that there is more than the darkness you’ve been in, that purpose can be found.

You jump.

Your heart pounds violently, and your stomach flops as you fall. You’re terrified and utterly helpless. You have no idea what will happen to you.

You continue to fall, until, suddenly, you’re submerged in cold water. Water rushes into your lungs and you try to keep your head above water. You tread water, but the water is deep and you quickly get tired. You try to swim, but you don’t know which direction to go. You yell out for help.

Then, you hear a voice say, “Here, take my hand.” You reach your arm out to grasp the outstretched hand. The person is in a small boat that has a lantern attached to the helm. The lantern’s light emits a warm glow that contrasts with the icy water engulfing you. The person hoists you into the boat and wraps a warm, dry blanket around you.

You don’t know who the person is. You don’t know where the person is going. But the person has helped you.

The person turns to look at you and asks you a question…

… and before you answer, I want you to remember that Princess Jasmine wouldn’t have discovered a whole new world if she hadn’t first decided to answer the same question:do-you-trust-me

Do you trust me?

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An exercise in faith

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Imagine this:

You’re in a space with no light, immersed in complete darkness.

You stretch your arms out in front of you, seeking something — anything — for your fingers to touch and recognize. You move one foot cautiously forward, making sure there is solid ground underneath for you to step on.

With this carefulness, you walk around blindly, relying on your senses to perceive what is safe and what is not.

As your fingers and feet are exploring, you catch your breath. Your front foot has nowhere to go. The ground has disappeared in front of you. Realizing you are at a ledge, you take a step backward and return to the ground you know is safe.

You sit there. You lose all sense of direction. There is nothing but you and the stifling darkness. You begin to think you’ll never escape.

Suddenly, your eyes are jolted by a flicker of light.

It is small and distant, yet it radiates energy and purpose in the still darkness.

The ledge looms between you and the faraway light.

Now what do you do?

Do you stay in the darkness?

Or do you walk toward the light?