Some of the "art" in our home is very interactive. We have fine art and folk art. We have prints of olde masters and the "real deal" from new masters. We have art that shocks some of our friends, and art that would shock no one. Everything does have a story.
No matter who the guests may be in our home (olde friends, neighbors, those I mentor, relatives, new friends, etc.), I always have to smile at how our rocks with words on them get rearranged. Mystical.
This "Leap of Faith" figure by Thomas Blackshear does inspire my own leaps in both large and small ways. Some times (many times?) faith can only be exercised in leaps into the unknown.
Earlier this summer, finishing an exercise walk I went past a small park a block from our home. Two small children had a real case of the giggles as they climbed up on some playground equipment and took turns jumping into their father's arms.
He'd catch one. Put them down. While the other one was climbing a ladder to run right into thin air and be caught by the Dad. That keep repeating, as I stopped to watch the two kiddos and the father getting a good amount of exercise. The baritone laugh of the dad with the squeals of the children...well, a full blown symphony would not have sounded so grand and delight-filled.
Now, if you and I want to go soaring off into thin air, most likely there will be no one there with arms outstretched encouragng us to jump, unless there is a gaggle of firemen holding a safety net at the bottom of a burning building. We probably wouldn't be giggling at the privilege of the next soar into the space below us.
Recently, personally, I've realized two places where I've been stuck, holding back, not willing to take a leap of faith, for at least a dozen different very poor "reasons" (...and most likely way more than a dozen). Don't ask God for a sign, unless you really want to see one (...even then, in the Almighty's exquisite love and care for us, we may not get one...).
A few days ago, early in the morning, before dawn, I was having a prayerfully good argument with God in a time of quiet and meditation. My imagination was zinging at warp speed with some of the finest excuses a human would dare make.
Then I walked into our living room, where our "leap friend" resides on top of our piano, thinking stubborn thoughts of "No! Not now!! Too risky!!! There are other things I have to do...!"
I guess it's true that stones do cry out. Those words of "dare," "now," "jump," were not whispering to me. There was a distinct holy nudge to "...get going!"
I have. I am. I will keep going.
What about you? Where do you need to dare, now, to jump?
Carefully think about that, because I'm fairly confident you know. Therefore, you do know what to do.
Now the next question becomes, "When...........?