A
man leaps into a burning car to save the life of the woman inside.
A
teenage girl dies saving her six year old brother from drowning by
jumping into an icy river.
A
father of two daughters risks his life to rescue an elderly gentleman
who falls in front of a train during a seizure.
Brave.
The word has some great glory about it, and speaks of honour and
grandeur and presence of mind. It is a beautiful word. When I hear it
in conversation, I am immediately attentive, my eyes widen, and my
mind imagines as hard as it possibly can what it would be like to be
there, to see that need, to act with so much courage...and then I
wonder.
Am
I brave?
I
was pondering this confronting, gorgeous question on a sunswept
Wednesday afternoon last week, and I came to a conclusion.
I
don't think that on my own I'm that brave at all.
I
thought I was. Or rather, I
thought I would be if the situation arose.
Of
course I would be, wouldn't I? I would
be brave if I was in that position, but I have not been in that
position yet, and probably never will be. I would be brave, if only
circumstance would bring it to light.
No.
Circumstance
has brought it to
light, and I have lost so many opportunities because I have not
realised it sooner. I don't need a burning car, a freezing river, or
an oncoming train to be brave.
I
have always thought that bravery meant striving for an ultimate,
human bigness. It doesn't. Bravery is not about seeking honour, but
honouring someone else. It may not require sacrificing your life, but
it will often require sacrificing your pride. It is not about
appearing to do the right thing, it is about actually doing
the right thing, whatever the consequences. It is about living fully.
It is about hoping, when every part of your heart tells you to
despair; giving $10 to the homeless man you just walked past; being happy to be you, when everyone is telling
you to be someone else; hanging out the washing when your mum asks you to, despite wanting to scream, "NO!". It
is about loving, even when they don't love you back.
That
is brave. And every moment that
goes by where we reject an opportunity to help someone, act with
integrity, speak the truth, be who we were meant to be, or do
what God tells us to do, we are
missing, losing the
brave moment that could have been ours.
On
my own, I am not brave. Not in the slightest. But I have a hope. A
hope in Jesus. And 'Since we have such a hope, we are very bold.'
(2
Corinthians 3:12)
And we start with the little things.
7 comments:
Wow. This is such an amazing post! Thank you
You are an incredible writer and thinker, I've been moved, convicted and inspired.
You so encourage me...and make me think. Half the things I ponder, I wouldn't if it wasn't for you!
Thank God for bringing you into my life :)
Thank you Imogen! That was most inspiring and thought-provking, you are an incredible writer! :)
I love you and your blog! I want to read more! You have such a gift of writing.
you know, the other day I read this quote:
"Paint the flying spirit of a bird, rather then it's feathers."
-Robert Henri
It made me think of you. You have a flying spirit and when you see beauty you draw it from the inside out.
Thank you.
Beautiful... That's all I can say!!
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