I have jumped off bridges and rocks into rivers before and it was fun watch a gang of kids come off the rope swing right up till I noticed this guy sixty feet or so up on the bridge looking over with purpose. And looking. And looking. Finally, he backed up ten feet into the street, ran to the railing, vaulted up, and then stopped dead on the railing. More slowly, he took a deep breath and plummeted over the side. The sound of hitting the water was too loud and all of us looked to see if he came out ok. He did. Later I talked to him and he was very proud, glad I noticed, but his eyes betrayed a bit of "why did I do that?" wildness.
Just before we left, a young child who had been playing at the edge of the river wandered too deep and was drowning when she was saved by a sister who was a little too far away, a mother way too far off yelling, and a Dad running into the water in his clothes.
Olivia got a scare when she swam across a river current, swept off by it's force, suddenly finding a river that had been so tame was much more powerful than she could handle.
All were ok.
Why do we jump off bridges, wander into water, and try to fight the currents of the world? There is a careless madness to it that doesn't just end when we are teenagers. We got news this week that there is another way the Conference is not caring about us. We are out of control on this one and will have to trust that nothing serious happens, that God will care for us, and that there might be helpful hands if we get over our heads in the deep currents of life. Off we go!