Leaping Into the Unknown



There's a bridge over a river that connects two lakes in the town where I used to live in Florida, from which people jump into the tannin-colored water below.  

It's a time-honored tradition there, despite the many signs the city has posted to forbid it. 

Many years ago, we were boating near there, and someone on the boat suggested we all make the leap.  I was not for it, to be honest.  I tend to enjoy living a life free from stupidity that might result in bodily injury, but I was outvoted. 

It didn't take long before I was goaded into climbing up to the bridge, mostly because my youngest son was determined to make the jump, and wouldn't do it without me.  

When you are up on the bridge looking down at the water below, it's a lot farther down than it seems from below.  My kid looked at me and said, "I think I'm scared."  To which I bravely replied (not really feeling brave), "Just close your eyes and jump."  

So we did.  And I, being somewhat heavier than my son, plunged all the way to the bottom of the river, where the mud was squishy and hard to push off from.  

When my head finally broke the surface and I heard the sound of cheering, I realized I'd survived. Then, a little voice inside me said, "Do it again." 

Sometimes life presents you with moments where you have the choice of leaping into the unknown, and everything inside of you is telling you to back away and return to safety.  

But taking that leap might be the best thing we've ever done.  

I found this quote the other day that resonated with me, as I contemplated the whole "Just close your eyes and jump" advice I once gave my son.  

“They say, ‘Look before you leap.’ So look. But do not look for too long. Do not look into the void of uncertainty trying to predict each and every possible outcome, to evaluate every possible mistake, to prevent each possible failure. Look for the opportunity to leap, and leap faster than your fear can grab you. Leap before you talk yourself out of it, before you convince yourself to set up a temporary camp that turns into a permanent delay on your journey into your own heart.” — Vironika Tugaleva

Life often presents us with crossroads where the next step is uncertain, and our natural response is fear. We want guarantees before moving forward—proof that everything will work out as planned. 

But fear thrives in uncertainty, whispering that it’s safer to stay where we are. Tugaleva’s words remind us that while caution has its place, it cannot become an anchor that prevents us from moving into the life God calls us to live.

Scripture echoes this truth. Abraham left his homeland, “not knowing where he was going” (Hebrews 11:8), trusting only in God’s promise. 

Peter stepped out of the boat and walked on water, but it was fear that caused him to sink (Matthew 14:29–30). Time and again, God invites His people not into certainty, but into trust. “Do not fear, for I am with you,” God declares through the prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 41:10), a declaration meant to encourage God's people to move forward.  

To leap faster than fear can grab us is to live by faith. It means loosening our grip on control and believing that even if we stumble, God’s hand will catch us. 

Delaying, second-guessing, or setting up camp in our doubts may feel safe, but it robs us of the fullness of life God longs to give us. The invitation is simple: take the step, trusting that the God who loves you beyond all imagination will not let you fall.

Prayer:
God of courage and grace, teach me to leap into the unknown with trust in You. Quiet my fears, calm my anxious thoughts, and help me believe that You hold me in Your everlasting arms. Amen.

Reflection Questions:

  1. Where in your life are you “camped” in fear instead of moving forward in faith?

  2. How can you remind yourself daily of God’s promise to be with you in uncertain times?

  3. What small leap of trust could you take today, knowing God will not let you fall?


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