I Think I Know What Brave Is

I live in house with 2 little boys, thus by nature of what they like to watch and do, I know what courage and bravery look like...Luke Skywalker fighting the dark side; the red ranger morphing into the fiercest version of himself to take on the latest bad guy (usually some low budget model of a giant robot... could go on about this but I won't); or Optimus Prime facing off with Megatron in a battle of good versus evil.  This is what bravery looks like in our home.

In my mind, bravery looks like a young soldier in Iraq, or a person that chooses to fight fires for a living, or something along those lines.

But I found that bravery has a whole other face to it, one that's not in the limelight per say, and it's one I've gotten to witness first hand...

I've watched my dear friend (who is really more like a third sister to me) endure the sharpest of sharp left turns in her life; something that came her way without her permission and completely out of her control.  She faced it with her chin held high, even though she was terrified and hurt beyond comprehension.  She clung to her Bible like it was breath and her knees should have been bruised after all the time she spent on them in prayer.  This is bravery.

I have another friend, who I am lucky enough to also call "boss" who preemptively shaved his head when the chemo began to do its thing to his hair.  He hurts and feels awful most of the time, but the biggest complaint you'll hear from him is that he feels "weird, funky or creepy."  He faced and faces his diagnosis by putting his faith foot forward, and everyday comments on how much God is teaching him in this journey.  This is bravery.

And on a much lighter note, I watched my son Luke, who we lovingly call "caution boy" face a big fear and learn to ride his bike without training wheels.  To this innately prudent child, balancing himself on 2 skinny wheels is an impossible prospect (not to mention a ludicrous one).  But he made a choice to trust his dad, who ran alongside him and promised not to let him crash hard, and he learned to ride that bike.  It was a big deal for this little guy, and to me that too was bravery.

My friends, who I wrote about would read this and look me square in the eyes and claim that they aren't brave.  They would probably say that when it comes down to it they are no different than my son.  That as they face their "bike with no training wheels," they made a choice and continually make a choice to trust their Father to run alongside them and not let them fall.  They would say, "I'm not brave, courageous and anything special, but I have God who is and I'm trusting Him.  If you see courage in me, it's because you're seeing Him in me."

Maybe the bravest thing any of us can do as we face life and the many impossible situations that come our way (and you know they do) is to "cling to Him at a soul level and let His right hand uphold us."  (Psalm 63:8)