I wonder when I began to value
safety more than risk-taking?
I used to love the Tilt-a-Whirl and
riding my bike downhill with no hands, the wind tearing at my hair. I was a wild child who once “ran away” from
home through the town drainage ditches and culverts, while my family searched
frantically, making it all the way to the other side of town before a good
Samaritan returned me home.
My younger brother and I,
accompanied by our usual cohorts, spent entire days “exploring” creek beds, and
no one knew where we were. We were
fearless… unafraid of snakes, drowning, or danger.
We were daredevils who played
chicken at night by lying down on the center line of the highway in front of
our house, a risky venture considering it was a main thoroughfare with a
dangerous curve blocking view just beyond our house.
We swam in rain-swollen
drainage ditches, climbed trees, slid down tin roofs, and shared grand
adventures. The town and surrounding
area were our frontier, and we were daring explorers who knew no fear.
I envisioned myself exploring Egyptian
pyramids, solving mysteries like Trixie Belden, or becoming a spy like the Girl
from U.N.C.L.E.
When I look back on the child I
was, I wonder how I became the adult I am.
Was it growing up? Becoming a parent?
Experiencing the inevitable failures and disappointments life brings?
Or is it growing old, trading the
thrill of the dare and the lure of the unknown for safety and security?
Vance Havner said: “Many people are in a rut and a rut is nothing but a grave - with
both ends kicked out.”
I need to kick out
the ends of my rut and see where the adventure leads.
