Today my oldest auditions for a school performance and doesn’t get the part. She’s all smiles when she leaves the school building because her audition, apparently, was great.
“I took a risk,” she says. “I didn’t get the part, but I tried.”
All afternoon, I remember how wise folks always tell us to try things that have a likelihood of failure to exercise our risk-taking muscles. Real risk involves real exposure to danger, loss, or harm. It’s not risky if you know what’s going to happen. It’s not a risk if there’s no potential for loss or harm. In fact, a risk means it’s equally as likely to fail as to succeed.
The etymology of risk paints a great picture for me; risk refers to sailing in uncharted seas or traveling along cliffs. It’s terrifying, but you don’t get anywhere new unless you move into uncharted waters.
Risk takes faith. We move out into the dangerous unseen and exercise our faith.
Everything great that’s happened in my life involved an element of risk. I need to remember that.
Are you taking any real risks in your life?