Brave Or Foolish?

Sometimes the line between brave and foolish can be a little blurred.

Like the time I was dared to jump off the roof of a neighborhood church building.

It was a fair offer.

I jump……I get fifty cents.

With Quick Trip only a few blocks away, I couldn’t resist.

So…….I jumped! However, I don’t recall if I ever really got the fifty cents.

Maybe because I was in too much pain to care.

X-rays indicated that I broke my left foot and would be in a cast for 8 long weeks.

I felt so brave on that roof.

My favorite brave thing to do was baiting my own hooks when my dad took me fishing.

As an 8 year old girl I could put a worm or a minnow on a hook like none other. I was also not afraid to wrap my hand around the fish I caught and carefully remove the hook.

My dad taught me well.

I found pleasure in doing brave little girl things.

I was water skiing at the young age of 6, jumping the wakes and feeling quite proud of myself that I could slalom ski even before my older brother.

I liked brave. I lived brave. And I grew to love the way brave felt.

But something happened as I grew older.

Brave started to look more like foolish.  (Like an older version of jumping off the roof of a church building)

Some of the brave-foolish things I did were blurry. Some were just plain stupid.

Foolish things turned to regret.

And when I was still doing foolish things long after it’s expected that we do foolish things, I battled despair.

Despair led me to the deepest dark pit I’d ever dug for myself.

And I was no longer brave.

I was scared.



And broken.

In a self-inflicted pit with no one to blame.

That’s where He met me. Jesus did.

He told me it was time to be brave.

He told me I hadn’t seen brave yet….. but I was about to.

Then He held me, spoke tenderly to me and set my feet back on a solid foundation.

He gave me a sketch of the framework for what was about to happen but mostly, I was left without understanding.

He was patient with me. So kind. Refusing to let me go back.

At my lowest. He was WITH me.

He spoke words like…….






And then I saw brave. In the mirror.

His whispers to me in this hour are more daring than jumping off any church building.

They make my heart beat fast.

Challenging and a little scary.

Being vulnerable…..transparent….. and BRAVE.

I recently discovered this song. And it’s true. He makes me brave!

He will make you brave too.

Being brave as a big girl means doing things that involve going back into pits.

Back in….to help others out.

My friend, if you have been pulled out of a pit, He pulled you out.

To make you brave. To help others.

It’s most likely not my kind of pit.

Pits have all kinds of names.

But none too deep or too dark for God’s arm to reach into and pull you out.

“Listen! The LORD’s arm is not too weak to save you, nor is his ear too deaf to hear you call.”  Isaiah 59:1


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