The whole world watched in wonder and fearful amazement as we collectively held our breath and silently breathed a prayer for high wire artist Nik Wallenda this summer. Glued to the TV, I sat in my living room and was drawn into the unfolding events of his live performance, sure that I would be witnessing his death.
“Who dares to walk across the Grand Canyon on a tight rope,” I skeptically wondered.
I soon found out only someone who trains well, dreams big, and walks with Jesus. And when the evening was over, I was forever impacted by this circus performer and knew I would never forget what he taught me.
Family matters. Without the physical and emotional support of his family, Nik could not have lived his dreams. A father, a wife, an uncle, a grandfather. A whole circus ring of precious family and dear people who truly provided the safety net needed to keep going. I ask myself, “Does my family know I’m in their ring? Do they know I am their safety net?
Am I a safe person emotionally for my children, my husband, my circle of friends and family? Do I let fear rule the day or can I trust God with my children and their dreams, no matter how big or small, safe or dangerous?”
With each step, say “Thank you, Jesus.” Life is not easy. Walking across the Grand Canyon on a tightrope is no walk in the park, either. Some days walking by faith and not by sight is not so difficult, but other days it seems just as good to throw in the towel and give up. As Nik took each delicate, perilous step, he simply said, “Thank you, Jesus.” Each step. Step after step after step. As he slowly crossed the canyon, it seemed that he genuinely knew each step was a gift of God.
And somehow I was impacted by his walk as I walk this journey of faith, too. With so many difficult and unknown steps ahead of me, I want gratitude to well up in my heart much like Nik’s. I want to simply say, “Thank you, Jesus.” When the steps are easy, but especially when the steps are hard.
Dream big. Some dreams seem big. Others seem small. Most of my dreams, quite honestly, seem scary because I’m simply afraid of failing. And if I’m honest, I’m also afraid of what others might think and letting a few people down. Frankly, some of my dreams feel like the equivalent of walking across the Grand Canyon on a tightrope.
But after witnessing Nik’s life performance to a watching world, I am daring myself to grow courage and dream big again. To use the gift and talents and passions that God has uniquely given me. Not to my husband or to my parents or to my neighbor or to my dearest friends, but to me, Kara Butte, child of God.
I used to love going to the circus as a child and wonder about life as a circus performer. But then I grew up and got all practical and serious and perhaps somewhat stuffy about what it means to be a responsible adult. Watching a humble high wire artist live his dreams this summer encourages me to have child-like faith once again to unleash the artist in me. To value the community of people around me, to thank Jesus each step of the way, and to dream wild, wonderful, fearless dreams for the kingdom of God.
And this time, I might really want to run off to join the circus after all.
by Kara Butte, {circus dreamer} of His Story to Tell
