The Risk vs. The Reward


"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.  You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

J.R.R. Tolkien, "The Lord of the Rings"


You don't succeed by playing it safe.

That is a lesson I have been learning these past few weeks.  Interestingly enough it has been through my playing a video game called Fortnite by Epic Games that the lesson has hit home the most.  You see, in Fortnite there are different game modes, and in all of them the goal is to be the last person or team standing.  There is the choice to play it safe and there is the choice to go all-in.  Choosing the "play it safe" option lets you wander around the outskirts of the island gathering up materials, tools, and weapons to use in more of a late-game setting.  It lets you potentially last longer.  However, it is very difficult to learn how to actually stay alive once you do run into other people in the game who are suddenly shooting at you.  There isn't much practice playing this way.  Choosing the "all-in" option is when the real learning begins.  Most likely your character will be killed off right away until you learn how to play the game- until you learn how to take aim and assert yourself and not be afraid to be shot at.  It's learning to take a risk and the risk is where the most learning occurs.

You see, life isn't without its own risks.  There is always a choice- a choice between playing it safe and between going for it and going all-in.  We are human and thus growing into ourselves means taking chances.  Sometimes we will fail and other times we'll succeed.  What they both have in common is not knowing the outcome until a person has taken the risk and tried.

One of my favorite quotes about taking risks is this:

All who live risk something.
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure.

From Charles R. Swindoll's book "The Strength of Character"

One of my good friends often reminds me that I don't have to have all the details worked out to do a thing.  Sometimes you just have to know step one and then start with that step.  As you go forward with the idea or plan the details seem to have a way of working themselves out, oftentimes in ways we don't expect.  Actually, it likely won't be in the way you expect.  Eventually the goal in mind will be reached.  I tend to get caught up in the details because I get overwhelmed with how I'm going to figure out how to reach my goal.  Either that or I feel overwhelmed with the big picture because I really want to get there and I'm not sure how- it seems too far out of my grasp.  That's when I remember my friend's advice to start with step one.  I don't need to know all the details- they will work themselves out during the journey.

Taking a chance and putting yourself out there is a bit like plunging head first into the ocean.  After jumping off a cliff.  And then discovering you're wearing floaties and not actually drowning.  Before long you discover an island in which you find rest, and as you are resting a boat comes along to the rescue.  You get in.  Then the storms start going and fear sets in- you know this story.  Along comes Jesus walking on water, beckoning you to get out of the boat and join him.  The only question is, do you get out of the boat?

It's worth it to get out of the boat.  It's worth it to jump off the cliff.  It's okay to not have all the answers- and nor should you.  Traveling along on the road less traveled, during the journey there will be others traveling that same road.  They will have what is needed for that part of the journey and then they will move on, as will you, both of you all the better for having had that encounter.  Every so often you will be joined by God except you will not know it is God- until later when looking back on your journey.

May we be brave enough to take that first step out into the unknown.


The Road Not Taken

By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black,
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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