Last time, I wrote about what it means to walk to the Edge. To move to that scary, important, cutting edge place in life where we can see the amazing and awe-inspiring vistas of what might be - both the positive and the negative.It is good to walk out there to the edge from time time, to let yourself get to that knee-weakening, stomach-flipping spot where views of God's plan and will can sharpen into a clarity that can be just as knee-weakening and stomach-flipping as the highest precipice. It helps us to see beyond ourselves - beyond our limitations and our shortcomings. It can be staggering.But what if the Edge isn't just someplace you can choose to walk to for a bit or a visit? You know... walk out there to the Edge, look around, get inspired, find new resolve and direction, and then head back home. Back to the normal routine. Back to safe and comfortable surroundings. What if that wasn't an option? What if the Edge was it? What if everything in life - things both in and out of your control - brought you out to the Edge and just left you there?What if you had to live on the Edge?I grew up in a great part of Seattle called Ballard. When I was growing up and going to school there (even before the cheerleaders pulled the ladder out from under me and gave me my dislike for heights), Ballard was still a predominately Norweigan and Swedish part of town - fiercly proud of it's Norse heritage and eager to share it with the rest of the city whether through it's Seventeenth of May Lutefisk eating contest, or the Ballard High School Beaver's cheer of "Lutefisk, lutefisk. Lefsa, Lefsa. We're from Ballard High School - Yeah, sure! Ya Betcha!"Today, Ballard is an eclectic mixture of cultures, architecture, traditions, and people. It was then, and still is today, the proud home of one of the largest comercial fishing fleets in the Americas - including the ships and crews made famous on the TV show, "The Deadliest Catch." It was, and still is, home to a house my Grandpa Harton was absolutely convinced would slide down the side of the hill it was perched on. The folks who lived there, in an architecturally literal sense, lived on the edge. Actually, they lived over the edge since more than half of their house was built over thin air and supported by a few posts that reached from various levels of the hill to the bottom of house. It did look precarious, but it has stood up to the tests of time and weather.I have no idea what the lives of the people who live in that "edgy" house are like. I never met the family who lived there during my childhood. I would guess that there have been several others who have lived there in the two and a half decades since I moved away from Ballard, and I find myself wondering about their lives. Have they experienced life on the edge in any significant way beyond where their address puts them? Have they ever known the heart-pounding, faith-refining experience of standing alone on the very Edge between what has been and what might be? Between who they've been and who God calls them to become?Have you? Would you?I don't know what the Edge may be for you, but I know it's much closer than you think.And - I know that when you find yourself all alone out there on the Edge... you are never really alone.

In one of my notebooks, I have a square card that I have kept there for about ten years. I picked it up at a stationary and art shop in one of my favorite places on earth – Canon Beach, Oregon. The card – in very cool lettering – contains words from the artist who designed it, Mary Anne Hersey. The card reads: 

        Live with Intention
        Walk to the Edge
        Listen Hard
        Practice Wellness
        Laugh
        Play with Abandon
        Continue to Learn
        Appreciate your Friends
        Choose with no Regret
        Do what you Love
        Live as if this is All there is
        Live with Intention 

I like those thoughts… that’s why I take the card out of its pocket in my notebook and read it every so often. I do pretty well with most of those admonitions most of the time – Laugh, play with abandon, continue to learn, appreciate your friends.

There are a couple of lines on that card, though, that take a bit more… well, intentionality for me. One in particular stands out –

        Walk to the Edge

The edge can be a scary place. Nothing to keep you from falling but your own tenuous sense of balance.

Now, some people revel in that. They love climbing up on ladders, leaning over railings, standing with their toes right up to the verge of a cliff. While getting out there may give you a great view… the Edge can give me the willies.

It wasn’t always that way. I used to love to climb up on ladders… I wasn’t so good at climbing trees for some reason. I liked to be up on our garage roof and get out to the edge of some of the drop-offs overlooking Shilshole Bay near my childhood home in Seattle. It all changed for me one day during my senior year at Ballard High School. I was helping some of the cheerleaders change a reader board on the side of the School’s gym building. I used a 24 foot extension ladder to get up to the sign and sat on the eight-inch or so wide ledge below the sign to reach across and change the lettering. Not a problem! I loved it. Then the girls thought it would be funny to take the ladder down for a minute. Now… that was a problem! The ladder was too heavy for them to handle. They dropped it as they took it down and couldn’t lift it back up. Over the next ten minutes or so, I kept myself balanced – half on, half off the ledge – while they ran through the school looking for the custodian to come help them with the ladder. As the minutes slipped by, so did my enthusiasm for ladders, high places, and being on the edge like that. To this day ladders make my knees turn to not-quite-set jello.

But, that’s a literal Edge. That line on my card is pointing to a more metaphorical Edge, I think…

        The Edge of my experience…
        The Edge of what I know…
        The Edge of Myself.

The Edge can be a scary place… but it is a very important place to be. It is at the Edge that we get the best views… both of where we’ve been and where we hope to go. It’s at the Edge that growth happens… good, healthy growth. It’s at the Edge that we can go beyond ourselves and step into a future that God unfolds before us.

To walk to the Edge means to move to the spot between what you know and what you’ve only wondered about. To walk to the Edge means to walk right up to the point where all of your experiences – good and bad – have brought you to look ahead into the unknown. To walk to the Edge calls us to move with trust that the words of Proverbs 16:9 are true… 

        “In his heart a man plans his course,
        but the Lord determines his steps.” 

And, it seems to me, that to walk to the Edge challenges us to take the next step… not off the Edge – that sounds a bit fatalistic – but the step of faith.

Maybe that’s what makes Walking to the Edge is scary. It takes us beyond ourselves. It deposits us right at the spot where to move ahead means to move beyond ourselves… to move where only faith can take us.

To get there doesn’t just happen… it takes Living with Intention.

That's a line from one of my favorite books - "From the Corner of His Eye" - by one of my favorite authors - Dean Koontz. He uses it to describe what one of his characters is experiencing as she ponders some strange and definitely unexpected happenings in the life of her family.

And, it describes well what I hope this Blog will become - a place to faithfully nibble on the mysteries of life, faith, the Bible, meaning, God, purpose, and more.

One of the passions of my life is to help people engage the Bible in a real way... 
         taking it off of the shelf or out of the pew rack and putting it into their daily lives and thinking... 

Sometimes I will be serious with them. Sometimes I will be humorous. At all times, my intention is to be faithful to what the Bible reveals about God and his will for each us as part of his good and dearly loved creation.

One of my favorite quotes comes from William Willimon... it strikes a sympathetic chord in me - and I hope it will in you.

"The good news of Jesus is so odd that we never get so used to hearing it or living in accordance with it that we don't need to hear it again."

What do you think? Can we hear the Good News - the words and story of the Bible - enough? Or is there always room for a bit more?

Something to ponder....