One Brave Thing

“It’s Daddy! It’s Daddy!” Heidi shouted, excited, as she ran into the living room holding my phone. I gasped, rushing to grab the phone and carefully swipe to accept the Facetime call. Jeff had only been in Africa 2 days, and I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to talk via Facetime at all. But here he was, calling. We huddled up anxiously on the couch, holding up the screen in front of our faces, waiting for the connection to come through. We waited … connecting connecting connecting.

And there he was! Clearly tired but full of joy, Jeff sat on his bed beaming into the screen. Heidi quickly began jabbering, telling every detail of our beach trip, holding up her new stuffed pony and gemstone sandals. Jeff listened long before sharing tidbits of his life-changing adventure through Uganda, following in the footsteps of our good friends Paul & Pam Hunter from Next Generation Ministries.

At the end, before hanging up, Jeff got face to face with Heidi on the phone.

“Heidi, I want you to do one brave thing, then tell me all about what you did. Ok?”

Heidi looked seriously, receiving her charge.

“Ok, Daddy.”

We kissed the phone-screen and said goodbye. I didn’t mention the brave-thing, but I loved that he challenged her with that.

See, my little darlin’ doesn’t come by bravery easily. Perhaps she gets it from her Mama. (smile) Caution comes quickly, and both my kids would always rather play it safe. I joke that I don’t have a thrill-seeking bone in my body.

But we don’t have to be dare-devils to be brave.

It was the next day when we were playing outside at Riversong, my parents country home.  For months Papa had urged Heidi to take off her training wheels, but she refused. No way. She had no intention of ever doing such a thing. But this morning, Papa drove off for a trip to town, and as we pulled out her bike she paused. For just a moment she looked down at her bike, then up into my eyes. Then she said it quietly,

“Mama, let’s take off my training wheels.” I grinned, but didn’t make a big deal (I’ve learned the hard way that over-exuberance kills the moment for my kids), quickly found a wrench, removed the wheels, and held the bike steady.

“I’ll run along behind you and hold that seat,” I promised, but no sooner had we started than she called back,

“You don’t need to hold on.”

And just like that … she was off. Riding like the wind, golden-tipped curls streaming behind her, face full of light, open-mouth smile:

“Look Mommy! I’m riding! I can’t wait to show Daddy!”

You’d think she was born on that bike, the way she speeds around that driveway now.

That night, we curled into bed together, her little arms around my neck, her sweet-breath right on my face as she whispered,

“Mommy, I did one brave thing.”

“Yes, sweetie-girl you did.”

The next day she jumped up when the phone buzzed, holding up the screen while she waited for the connection. “Daddy! I did it! I did one brave thing! I rode my bike without training wheels.”

As I sat and watched the joy on her face, the joy on Jeff’s face, I couldn’t help but see the Father’s heart for us, His kids. He knows we’re afraid. He knows we’re not naturally courageous. He knows we’re prone to fear, caution. He knows that spiritually-speaking, we’re not much for thrill-seeking.

But He asks us just this: Do one brave thing.

You don’t have to raise the dead just yet. Maybe pray for a mundane miracle. Maybe give 10% of your income even though you don’t know how ends will meet. Forgive that person who hurt you so long ago. Trust Him with that relationship that’s gone haywire. Give extra kindness to the person who’s just so hard to love.

What is your one brave thing?

May today be the day you take off those training wheels … and ride like the wind.

Your Father will be so proud.

{Thanks for reading.}