One of our favorite restaurants in town has an appetizer that gives you three small lamb chops grilled and seasoned to my perfection alongside a small tasty Greek salad. I honestly don’t know how you could possibly follow this up with an entree. It already has everything. It turns out to be a full meal for me for the price of an appetizer. Are there other, better things on the menu? Probably, but I will never know that because I would never take the chance of being disappointed when I know I could have had my sure bet plate. There’s a name for the value I place on this. It’s one of the six basic human needs and it’s called certainty.

We all need certainty in our lives — depending on our temperaments, some more than others — but we need to be aware of this because we all can require more certainty than we need. And if our focus is entirely on maintaining certainty, we will never grow. That’s because another basic human need is uncertainty.

Uncertainty, variety, change, all lie outside the realm of our comfort zones. But in order to grow and expand, we must take steps towards new experiences, new understandings or areas in which we know we need to stretch.

Think of what the disciples faced when Jesus said, “Come, and follow me.” For the afternoon? For the day? For the weekend? For the next three years of my life? Did they know? Did they have a clue? There was no plan, no prerequisite, no contract. It was just “drop your nets and follow me.” Talk about uncertainty. And look what came of it.

But uncertainty presents a problem for me. Let’s face it, I’m having a big enough struggle over what my is giving me for our Anniversary this week. I brought her roses and guess what I received: a ticket to jump out of an airplane. That’s right. She wants to take me skydiving. She wants me to jump out of a plane with her. She says it will cause me out of my comfort zone. Marti loves the rush of this experience, but when she has jumped before I have opted to stay with my feet on the ground as it should be.

“I can also think of a lot of smaller steps outside my comfort zone than this,” I tell her, but she’s not accepting that. I can tell I’m not going to talk her out of this. I must admit, I experience much the same struggle with things I know the Lord is asking me to do. Maybe if I can push through this just once, I can strengthen that spiritual muscle or whatever it is that will help me step out of my comfort zone in other more important areas of my life.

Maybe I better jump.

“But wait, I know,” I tried an alternative, “the next time we go to that restaurant, I’ll order something other than the lamb chops.”

“Not on your life, Braveheart. You’re jumping. I’ve already got the tickets.” And then she clicks on her phone which is already set to play “Jump” by Van Halen and holds it up for me to hear. I roll my eyes.

Maybe I won’t jump.

Marti loves uncertainty. Almost as much as I love certainty. She’s all in when it comes to trying out new things. In fact. I (and now we) owe much to her spirit of adventure and commitment to expansion. Had it not been for her, I would have begun my career as a choir director in a church that didn’t believe in choirs. Albums, books, a national platform, a relationship with each of you — who knows what might have never happened had she not pushed me out of that small;, comfortable space?

As you can see, Marti and I have a constantly challenging relationship. She wants to go big; I want to stay small. She is a maverick — a risk-taker — driven by uncertainty, variety, new opportunities. I want to stay with what I know, where I think I am in control (even though I am not). Marti’s goals are big, they seem impossible to meet, yet she continues to believe she can. My goals are short of the mark because I want to insure I can hit them. Marti is challenged by success; I am intimidated by it. Shall I go on?

I often wonder why God put us together. Did He just want to stand by and watch the fireworks, or does He have something special in mind that we could never reach apart from each other. I choose to accept the latter except that means I’m the one who is behind and needs to catch up.

I think I better jump.

Life is full of both certainty and uncertainty, and navigating a balance between them is part of the challenge of living. Most Christians I know today are like me, we err on the side of too much certainty. Too comfortable where we are. Too concerned about safety to step into the unknown. Too isolated from interactive relationships where we would be required to grow and give.

Come think of it, I don’t want to live like that.

That settles it; I’m jumping.