Living a missions minded lifestyle and sky diving seem pretty similar. You ultimately have to live out that passion in a way where there is no turning back and you are completely immersed and committed. Anything short of that is ridiculous, right? Not unlike the "sky diver" who is on the plane when it lands.
So, how ridiculous am I? I say I love the lost and then I ignore them, or worse, yell at them in my car in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Over a $3 cup of coffee I lament the lostness of the world: "if only I had more in my bank account to give," I say. I'm consumed by the mission trip to the other side of the world while the next door neighbor remains a stranger. I would rather watch the same Seinfeld rerun for the 10th time instead of praying for those in need.
Our actions define who we are. It's easy to put on the onesie and the helmet for the world to see, or heck, even hop on a plane. The hard part is actually committing to jump headlong out the window into the uncomfortable and vulnerable. Even still, the really hard part is choosing to jump day after day after day.
By the way, I've never sky dived. I've always intended to.
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