I crave the very thing I fear most, like a prisoner who longs for the day of his release but fears he will not be able to make it in the real world.  Tools: It all boils down to tools. If he had a mere spoon he would attempt to dig his way out of the cell. Once out, he could feed himself with the same spoon. But how does he get the food? How does he survive? Imprisoned, he would dig till his fingertips bled because he wanted out that desperately. But at least he knew where his next meal was coming from. At least he knew what to expect, what to fear, and when to keep quiet. Would he commit another mistake just to go back? And if he did return, would he in a few months’ time be stealing another spoon?

Van Halen had a popular song called JUMP. One line goes, “You say you don't know, you won't know until you begin.” Followed by the chorus, “Might as well jump. Jump!”

When I was younger I jumped more. I purposefully aimed and jumped in the muddy waters. Maybe I was naive in not thinking about how soiled my sandals could get, how many germs from the stagnant puddle would cascade onto my legs, or how much trouble I would get in when Mom saw my mucky white lace skirt. In truth, at that moment, I choose to jump because I knew no matter how disappointed Mom became she would still love me, clean me, and set me out again to make new choices. Indeed, I had little to fear and little to escape from other than trading one adventure for another.

Now, most of the time I jump so I land in the same spot I began; slight risk, but nothing I can’t quickly recover from if need be. Several times stand out where I jumped as an adult knowing I would never land in the comfort and familiarity of old footprints. Fewer times hold a memory when I jumped knowing what lay before me was so muddy that I didn’t fully know what I was getting into, what residue would potentially stain not only me but those around me, and how I would be received and perceived by my loved ones after I landed. In those moments, I remember holding my breath and praying God would be my bungee cord…the One who would dictate the force of my ripple effect based on the goodness or the foulness of the outcome. I never prayed for a smooth landing, but I always prayed for a blessed outcome. After all, it was always the thrill of the landing that made me jump as a child into the puddle, into the leaves, and into His arms during my bedtime prayer.

As we get older we don’t necessarily get wiser. Some lessons I have had to retake the test many, many times. This time is no different. I want new choices, new opportunities, and new beginnings. I feel the excitement of a child, the yearning of a prisoner, and the apprehension of an adult wrestling inside of me. I see the puddle, but it is not clear enough to understand and calculate the total risk.

I pray and I JUMP because I know that life isn’t meant to be a heavy burden; rather, we are meant to be free. FREEDOM…a word that makes you want to grab the spoon. FREEDOM…a word that also can scare you back into the same ole same ole if you are not willing to grab new tools and find new puddles.

Tools change with time, circumstance, and responsibility. This time my tools are independence, talents, love, white canes, belief in “I can” instead of “I can’t,” Braille makers, dreams dreamt so hard that they are already sprouting into reality, and the childlike understanding that no matter how disappointed God may become He will still love me, clean me, and set me out again to make new choices. Indeed, I have little to fear and little to escape from other than trading one adventure for another.