By guest blogger Dana C. Krueger, PhD.

I’m blessed with brilliant sisters in Christ. As I shared my travel/ blogging dilemma with Dana Krueger, she suggested I recruit guest bloggers when my schedule is demanding. I asked if she’d be willing to contribute to my blog, and she agreed. I know you will enjoy Dr. Krueger’s encouraging words to move into the challenge God has set before you bravely.

I leaned over and told my ten-year-old friend that I was now committed as she took her place in line behind me.

My heart pounded harder as I slowly ascended each step of the high dive.  I remembered climbing ladders without this apprehension.   What was scarier about this vertical ascent?  I reached the top and began to walk to the edge of the diving board, holding on securely to the silver railings with both hands.  I looked down at the man in the water who had jumped before me as he swam to the side and then to the lifeguard.  My nearsighted eyes didn’t see the head on the red swimsuit nod or give any indication that I may proceed.  Perhaps it was okay for me to stall? The blurry figure in the water climbed out of the pool.

Another step.  I let go of the railings.  The board wobbled.  My feet neared the edge.  Again, I looked down, seeing only a vague blur of blue with absolutely no sense of distance or depth.  Was it safe?  I knew it was, but what if I landed badly (not “look like an idiot” badly but “knock the wind out of this 45-year-old woman with a face-forward belly flop” badly)?  I felt the breeze and another wobble.  My breath caught in my chest. 

My friend was behind me somewhere (I didn’t dare look!), patiently waiting her turn, so I knew I couldn’t back out.  I didn’t really want to, even though I didn’t feel eager to jump. Okay, I was somewhat terrified to jump, and if she wasn’t there, I may have turned around.  But she was there, and I had decided.

I decided.

I stepped off the board.

Another year of homeschooling is approaching.  I’m in that same place, at the edge of the diving board, not knowing what’s below, heart thumping in my chest, and a very real inclination to turn back.  Perhaps I can see barriers more clearly than my blurred vision from high above the pool.  I know well the sounds of tantrums over a challenging subject or assignment, the sibling squabbles, my own struggles with diligence and distractions.  I can’t distinguish the depth or distance of the challenges ahead this year, with a pre-teen daughter, a preschooler, three dear kiddos in between, a swirl of curriculum choices, and the pulls of many other responsibilities.  My breath catches in my chest.  The fear of going forward is real.  The fear of failure is great.  Is it safe?  Can I do this?  Really do this?

I need a strong sense of calling to take that next step, to even set a start date that I will commit to.  I need a friend by my side to keep me from turning back.  I need to count the cost, moving forward even though there is that chance that I will fall flat on my face (again) and that it will be okay because God’s grace is sufficient, and His power is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).  I need to remember the many times the Lord has provided for, encouraged, humbled, and held me as I stepped forward in obedience.  I need to prioritize school in a way I haven’t done before.  I must simply decide and take that step off the ledge, trusting Him. 

I have decided.

Back to the pool

I hit the water with a gentle splash without too much water going up my nose.  I swam to the side of the pool, exhilarated and feeling like I had conquered something inside me.  (After all, last year, without anyone behind me, I climbed back down the ladder on my last trip to the pool.) 

Returning to the homeschool challenge

A gracious friend handed me a box packed with old curriculum guides and many books to let me school alongside her, providing accountability and giving our kids common books to discuss.  The Lord has provided a job for me that will allow me to buy the needed books that we weren’t able to purchase even a few years ago.  That strong calling is there as I see the need to disciple my children and desire to teach them well and joyfully explore with them.  

I’m not in a place where I feel I can dive into the pool or teaching or most things with complete confidence and without fear.  I hope to get there, but now?  Now I can hold my breath and jump.  I can walk off that board in surrender and faith, knowing that, while it may not be entirely safe, my Jesus is there.  I can fear bravely, knowing how worthy He is, and take that step.

What current challenge frightens you? Let’s prayerfully, fearfully, be brave, and move forward together!