Leap of Faith

My husband and I have owned and operated our own business for just over two years. With the beginning of a new year, we sat down and decided we're at a turning point in this adventure.  We're where we can do quite well, if we only knew where to go from here.

We've had advice from others who have had successful businesses and were told to 'prime the pump.'  Think of walking out to an old-fashioned water pump, pouring some water down into it to fill any air spaces with water and start pumping hard until you get water from the well flowing back up the pump again. That is 'priming the pump'.  Basically, you're putting good old leg work to use and hitting the pavement, finding referrals, networking with friends, and selling yourself and your business.

We can tell you, there is only so far this can go.  That is where we found ourselves this January.  Then, we went to a business retreat that changed our way of thinking. Yes, there is some priming of the pump.  But there are other things that should be done before and after the priming.

To me, it's just like living with MS or anything else hard in life.  People are always willing to give you advice on what 'they' think will work or what worked for them in their situation.  But until they have walked in your shoes or have lived in a situation very similar to yours, they'll never know what advice you'll need.  You can take bits and pieces from it and use parts of it, but it'll never give you the whole picture.

That's what happened to for us; we got the whole picture.  Just as I have learned over the past sixteen and half years of having MS, Rick and I learned through this weekend. We would need to read, study, go to seminars and workshops.  And then, we'd need to do with all of that information what I'll call the 'Leap of Faith.'

This is where we, or you, just jump into the dark abyss of the unknown and move on. I remember as a little girl I heard this story in Sunday School:  A little girl brought her dad's lunch to him while he worked deep in a well.  Although she couldn't see him down in the darkness, when she called to him he answered her, so she knew he was there.  Her dad asked her to drop the lunch box down the hole, and he would catch it.  In a few minutes, he called back there was too much lunch for just him and wanted to know if she would like to share it with him.  "Jump.  And I will catch you."  he said. "You can't see me, but I can see you.  I won't let you fall."  So she jumped into the dark well and landed safely in her dad's strong arms.

That is a leap of faith.  That's what we all need to do--jump into the darkness. Whether it's with a job, an unknown treatment, a new move or a new adventure.  No matter what's in our lives that's holding us back from growing, we need to be brave enough to move forward.  If we don't, we're growing stagnate. Eventually, we'll mold and decay and die.

It is scary.  I know that from experience.  You also know from my previous posts, I never do anything without thought, study, much prayer and contemplation. But there comes a time, when I know the answer and have to take the plunge.

At the retreat, I was talking to a new-found friend and compared this leap to a time when I was about thirteen.  There was a 13' high, diving board I used to jump off of.  I was brave going up but looking down was terrifying.  There was no going back though with all the kids on the ladder waiting their turn and yelling at you to go. A kid just had to take the plunge.  So, I take the step off (or leap or cannonball or what have you), and it's a fast fall to the water below.  But when it is over, what a ride it was!

And so our ride will be.  Through life with the trials of children, moving, jobs, and illness, we will be less like to weaken and wither if we take the Leap of Faith and give it our best shot; knowing that no matter what, at the bottom of our well is family, friends, and our Spiritual Guide to catch us.

Bad Decisions

Looking back over the last forty-five years of my life, I must say I have made some choices that haven't been all that good.  Some have ranged on the side of just stupid--like when I was seven and wanted prove to my best friend I could be like Houdini. I had her tie my ankles to the corner post of the top bunk with a orange, plastic jump rope (I still remember the color, haha). I proceeded to flip myself upside-down and commence with my magic.  Half-hour later (with me screaming, crying and blood rushing to my head) my mother was laughing hysterically as she used a knife to saw through the stretched-thin, plastic rope while my friend helped hold my thrashing body still.  [Just two-weeks ago, this friend (of 40+ years) and I laughed again over our stupidity.]

Others have been learning ones--like my first car.  My dad and I bought a clunker from a 'friend.'  The engine blew six months after purchase and since I was a poor student, my dad helped me rebuild the engine. I remember being with him in the garage on a cold, blustery October night in Montana (I believe it was in the minus with wind chill) holding the heat lamp while he would show me what I needed to do.  Then, he would hold the heat lamp, while I would do what needed to be done.  What better times for working on cars than the middle of winter?  And what better memories for a girl to make with her dad?

Some of my decisions have caused injuries--to my car or to myself.  I grew up in the woods of MT.  I love the outdoors.  My father always treated any car as a four-wheel drive.  So when I went to college, so did I.  I was very careful with this.  I was taught how to do it.  But one day, when out four-wheeling in a two-wheeler, the sun was just right and blinded me.  I hit a large rock I could've avoided had the sun not been in my eyes and damaged my water pump.  When the car stopped, all fluid drained. Several of us were back in fishing, so we filled the car with lake water and kept it running until we got back to school.  It cost me a pretty penny to get that fixed.

Injuries to myself happen a lot without poor decisions on my part being added to the mix. There are times when I decide to avoid a pet on the stairs and end up at the bottom.  The pet, of course, is fine.  Probably would have been even if I hadn't avoided it.  I, on the other hand, need weeks, sometimes months of doctors visits and therapy to get all back in working order.  Was that really a good decision on my part?

And then there are the decisions that cost money-the treadmill, aka clothes catcher; the new kitty,  puppy, birdie, fishies, your brown-eyed daughter and blue-eyed boy wanted fifteen-years ago, aka the ZOO you're left with to handle in your prime when they are off to college and you are stuck with them (p.s.  and you can't plow up the little mortuary in your garden, either); the rv, the atv's, the boat, the whatever-you-sunk-your-money-into-when-you-thought-it-a-great-idea-at-the-time but now are regretting it. These can be anything that you have laying around the house that you can't get rid of. And every time you look at them you say to yourself, "If only I had...."  

I have lots of those for me, my husband, and my children.  And the more I dwell on them, the angrier I get.  I start to beat myself up.  Sometimes I feel stupid.  But you know what?  It doesn't do any good.  Those decisions have been made.  It is over and done with.

There is a place we used to go hiking as a family when I was a kid. There was a long bridge on the trail, and my brothers would run up ahead of us all to play a game. They would grab several sticks of different shapes and throw them in at the head of the bridge racing down to the end to see if they could see which stick would win the race. The current of this stream had an eddy that would loop back toward you at the head before it would swoop downstream giving my brothers a chance to make it to the other side of the bridge

I compare decisions to those sticks.  They can be good or bad.  We are racing to the end of the bridge to see which one of our different-shaped sticks are going to make it to the end of the bridge.  Some are going to get caught in the eddy and just swirl around and around, getting no where in this life.  Others, will shoot out so fast, we will never no what stick it was or what decision we have missed out on.  It maybe one that saves us harm or money. But of those we see coming out, let's not beat ourselves up if they turn out to be losing bets.  We need to remember the water has swept under the bridge.  There is more water coming and more sticks to throw.  What will your next sticks be?