The other night, I dreamt that I was waiting for my turn on a high dive. It was finally my turn, and right as I got to the top of the ladder and stepped out onto the diving board, I woke up. 

The first thought in my mind (after questioning why the high dive was constructed of rickety wood in a familiar looking backyard… but hey dream logic is inexplicable…) was that I probably wouldn’t have jumped anyway. Apparently 6:00 a.m. me was ready to pick a fight. 

I tried to convince myself I definitely would have jumped, just circumstances led my alarm to go off before I had the chance. And suddenly the conversation felt all too familiar. 

Goal. Pursuit. Action requirement. Hesitation. Fear. Excuses. 

I am certain we’ve all been here before in one way or another. The cliche nature of the diving board analogy is not lost on me, but hey, blame it on my subconscious. I’m here to share the facts. 

What about your faith? 

No, this isn’t about taking some high dive leap of faith into a life goal. 

This is about diving into your faith. 

This is about me so often refusing to dive into mine. 

When Jesus called his disciples, they each had different reactions. The Twelve followed immediately, like they’d been waiting for this opportunity their whole lives. But when Jesus was calling other disciples, there was one that said he needed to bury his parents first. Jesus told him to “leave the dead to bury their own dead.”

What a haunting (and linguistically brilliant) line for him to drop. 

Leave the dead (in sin) to bury their dead (it is the end for them.) It is the beginning for you, for the faithful. The call is to follow now. Not when you have more time, or when you finish sewing your wild oats, or when you’ve met your personal goals and have time for Jesus. 

And it’s not one big leap of faith. It’s dive, flail, nearly drown, cramp up, crawl out, climb back up the ladder, pruny hands and all, and go again. Dive after dive after never-ending dive. 

Following Jesus means staying put when I am desperate to go somewhere new. It means loving a neighbor of mine that is driving me absolutely bonkers. It means looking ridiculous as I attempt a dive that only turns into a belly flop when my goals don’t align with His. 

And the high dive is a bit rickety, and it looks eerily familiar because I’ve climbed it before. And so many times I talk myself down. “Well, that’s just the way I was raised… it’s not that bad… it’s part of growing up… Jesus surely didn’t mean I have to love that person…” Endless rickety excuses for why I should get a pass, why I can’t follow Him right now because I have stuff to do. 

Leave the dead to bury their own dead. Whatever is stopping you from putting Jesus first (and for me it’s a whole list of things I have to sit down and face one at a time) has to go. It simply has to. Busy schedule? Cancel something and say no to people. Anxiety? Seek help and healing. Addiction? Get curious with the source of it, and your triggers. Take the time to learn your Old Adam so you can beat him at his own game. But be sure to actually beat him. You’re stuck with him on this journey but that doesn’t mean he has to hold the reins. 

Are you afraid Jesus will see your mess? Well he already does so you might as well invite him in to face it with you. Dive. 

Are you afraid you’ll lose your friends? You might. But are those friends worth your eternity? Dive. 

Are you afraid that you might lose more of you than you’re willing? Jim Elliot, missionary to Ecuador and ultimately martyr, said “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” 

I saw a post on Pinterest at the beginning of the year that I’ve kept front and center of my mind for two months now. A similar sentiment, but it simply said, “Your new life is going to cost you your old one.” 

Pick one thing. Just one. My suggestion is contemplative prayer, but it could be any aspect of your faith. Dive into it. 

2 Timothy 1:6-7 “For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.”