In middle school, I would take summer camping trips with a friend and his family over the summer at Inks Lake in Texas. We would do a lot of jet skiing and hanging out on the pontoon, but my favorite memories were when we went cliff jumping. Off of the main body of the lake was a little spot called Devil’s Waterhole with a 15-foot cliff from which to jump. I would walk up the side of the rock face and anxiously stare down at the water below. There was always a little hesitation: is the water deep enough? It’s close to 20-30 feet deep. What if I don’t jump out far enough? You have to jump out 2 feet, Austin. What if I over rotate and bellyflop? It’ll hurt for a few minutes, that’s all.
After running through all my questions and hesitations, I closed my eyes and leapt. A pit formed in my stomach the moment I noticed gravity forcing me downward. The hot air would rush past the sides of my body, and then the cool water would refresh me from the hot Texas sun. There’s something about those four seconds in the air where I felt the most alive. All my senses were engaged, and there was nothing that could take me out of the moment. I was hooked. On top of the 15-foot cliff was another 20-foot bolder, making for a 35-foot jump. It didn’t take long for me to get over my nerves and start leaping from there. I would jump, swim over to the side, walk up the rock face over and over for hours. I was living with zero fear.
Devil’s Waterhole at Inks Lake
My senior year of college, I had two of my best friends convince me to go skydiving. They asked a few weeks out, and I figured it was one of those “wouldn’t it be fun if we went skydiving?” sorts of things. I said yes kind of on a whim, thinking there was no chance we’d actually go. Next thing I know it was the week they were going, and they reserved a spot for me to go with them. I guess I’m going skydiving! *nervous laughs ensue*. I tried to play it off as not a big deal, but internally I was a mess. Upon arrival to the site, employees handed me a packet of waivers that basically signed my life away in the case of an “incident.” Yeah, that gives me a sense of undeniable comfort. The worst part, though, was the ascent to jumping altitude. Strapped into the lap of a 65-year-old man named Jerry, I was forced to come to terms with the idea that I was about to jump from a perfectly operable plane. Meanwhile, Jerry tried to make small talk with me, trying to make light of the situation. His large belly would press into my back with each chuckle he let out. Needless to say, my confidence in Jerry preventing my impending death was not at an all time high.
As we approached the door to the plane, I felt my stomach flipping. We did the classic and ever so anticipated, “On the count of three! One, two, jump!” As Jerry threw us out of the plane, adrenaline shot to every cell in my body. My skin lit up as all the cold air races by my body. Cheeks flapping, I recall letting out an inaudible “Wow.” It didn’t feel like falling. Again, there was nothing that could take me from being present in enjoying that experience. I don’t think I stopped smiling until 20 minutes after we landed.
My skydiving crew
If there is any word to describe me, it would be thoughtful. I am capable of thinking deeply but also susceptible to overthinking. As a result, I am naturally hesitant towards risks. On one hand, thinking through scary situations keeps me from making poor decisions. But on the other, it can prevent me from some truly wonderful experiences. It’s only after I take that leap of faith do I understand how taking meaningful risks leads to some of the most life-giving moments.
This December I was met with a precarious and exciting situation, especially considering what the last few months of my life held. Naturally, I began to proceed with attentiveness, trying to discern where my heart was at and whether or not this is something God wanted for me to pursue. Had I healed enough? Was this something that I was ready for? Searching my heart took a lot of introspection, counsel, and prayer. The phrase I kept throwing around to people was cautious optimism.
I’ll be honest, I expected people to applaud my caution. Instead, I had many tell me it seemed like I was hesitating TOO much. My thought process about all of it didn’t raise any red flags to them. Rather, they advised I shouldn’t miss out on how exciting all this was. Then, every morning prayer for discernment was literally answered within the day with assurance that this was something God wanted me to pursue. Turns out, I just needed to give myself permission to move forward with all of it and take that leap.
I did. And I couldn’t be happier about it.
For the love,
Austin
You didn’t ask for it, but here it is again: my list of lyrics I’ve been resonating with this month:
So much on my mind, I think I think too much
Read between these lines, unspoken weight of words
But time comes to rest when you are by my side, it blurs
And I will follow where this takes me
And my tomorrows long to be unknown
-Stone by Alessia Cara
I don't say what’s on my mind quite as much as you'd like me to
I've been hearing that my whole life, I promise, it's not just you
But I so confidently want you that
When you say you're insecure about my feelings I don't take it serious
But if you need me to tell you more
You're one of the few things that I'm sure of
You're one of the few things that I know already
I could build my world of
One of the few things that I'm sure of
And I want you to unravel me
Come closer, come closer
-The Few Things by JP Saxe
Maybe I came on too strong
Maybe I waited too long
Maybe I played my cards wrong
Oh just a little bit wrong
Baby I apologize for it
I could fall or I could fly
Here in your aeroplane
And I could live, I could die
Hanging on the words you say
I've been known to give my all
And jumping in harder than
10,000 rocks on the lake
So don't call me baby
Unless you mean it
And don't tell me you need me
If you don't believe it
So let me know the truth
Before I dive right into you
-Dive by Ed Sheeran