I grew up not too far from a water park, and we’d go at least once every summer. As a kid, I always enjoyed being in the wave pool. If you’ve never been in one, picture a hundred people bobbing in place while artificial waves churn for a few minutes at a time. It includes lots of people reenacting the ending of Titanic with pool noodles and life guards jamming out to hits from 2005. Hopefully you’ve seen one before, because I’m going to reference it a lot. 

Our wave pool was a zero-entry pool, meaning that the pool floor was totally slanted, so one end of the pool was extremely shallow (like, 1 inch of water shallow), and the other end was deep. The idea was to wade into it, like the ocean at a beach. The farther you walked/swam, the deeper the pool got, and most people had to stay afloat with noodles or water rafts (thus “There’s not enough room on the door, Jack.”). The pool ended at a wall with a contraption that created waves and sent them rippling through the water toward the shallow end. 

Every time we visited the wave pool, I wanted to go to the deep part, where the waves were the strongest. I’d start walking in, past all the moms with the babies and toddlers who were sitting in a couple inches of water. I’d beg my dad to go with me, and we would get as far as I could go while still being able to stand. Then I’d ask to go farther, where either I had to swim or he had to hold me. Usually he’d end up holding me, because though I could swim, I wasn’t strong enough to tread water for as long as I wanted to stay in the deep end. I loved getting hit by the waves, trying to “jump” over them or ride along with them, sometimes getting smacked in the face, sometimes swallowing alarming amounts of pool water.

Yes, Christianity Is Dangerous

The Christian life is comparable to my experience in the wave pool (really, really!). I once heard that Christianity is dangerous, much like a wave pool can be. The poor lifeguards watching that particular pool had a tough job. Often kids would swim out to an area that was too deep for them, get pulled under a wave, and struggle to get back up. I’m sure plenty of mothers (possibly mine included—sorry, mom!) could feel their blood pressure rising as their kids begged to be allowed to go in the wave pool and swim all the way to the deep end.

But Christianity, dangerous? What do I mean? Well, think of all the things we are asked to do:

• To believe in a God we cannot see. 
• To entrust our lives totally to Him; to surrender our very selves. 
• To rely on Him when all feels hopeless. 
• To embrace suffering joyfully. 
• To reject what the world is offering in favor of a reward we won’t see until the end of our life. 

I don’t know about you, but my human heart and mind call all of those things very dangerous. It’s dangerous to not be in control. It’s dangerous to share my deepest thoughts and feelings with someone else. It’s dangerous to hope that my shameful past could be redeemed.

I think, whether we realize it or not, we all confront this danger of Christianity. I know that I look at those things and get anxious. I am constantly asking myself: What does it truly mean to believe in God? What does it mean to fully rely on him?

For me, surrendering control is the most perilous part of being Christian. For example, I have recently been praying for a resolution to a health situation with a family member. However, when that situation escalates, I have the urge to throw prayer out the window and instead turn to the Internet – consulting Dr. Google about the latest symptom. But that’s not what I’m called to do. I’m called to run to the Lord in those situations and, counterintuitively, to praise Him. Living in deep faith means I cannot place my trust in myself (who, by the way, has no medical knowledge whatsoever) or even modern medicine in these times. Instead, I must invite God in and acknowledge the reality that God is in charge, and I am not.

Don’t let me fool you – I am not even close to being good at this. Many times, the danger overwhelms me, as it has probably overwhelmed you. And much like those mothers who keep their babies in the shallow end of the wave pool, we choose to protect ourselves by remaining in a shallow faith where the waves only splash at our ankles and we never risk being pulled under. It feels safer there. You can still say you’re “in the water,” and you can still feel like you’re doing the whole Christianity thing. But really, you’re not experiencing the fullness of what’s possible.

It’s easy to settle into a half-hearted Christianity, where we turn to God only when it feels safe or makes sense to us. We can fall into the habit of keeping our prayers polite and surface-level—asking for “peace in our country,” “health for my family,” or “that God blesses my friend who has cancer”—without bringing our raw, real desires and struggles before Him. We might drift through rote prayers during the day or receive the Eucharist without fully pausing to remember that it is the Body of Christ, broken and offered for us. Without even realizing it, we can find ourselves in a faith that stays ankle-deep, missing the depth and richness God is inviting us into.

God’s Invitation: Come Out Deeper

Maybe you’ve found yourself hovering at the edge, unsure whether to go farther. But God’s invitation is always open. Because we were not created to stay in the shallows. 

God calls us into life with Him, and that life is lived most fully out in the deep end. We even use that language, saying things like “going deeper in faith” or “diving into her faith life”. Just like I had the most fun in the wave pool by going to the deep, our faith lives are the best adventures when we courageously step forward into the danger. When Jesus called Simon Peter to follow him, Jesus disrupted Simon’s day. Have you ever thought of that? Luke 5:2-7 tells us that Simon had disembarked and was washing his nets. He was done fishing, probably ready to go home. But Jesus got into Simon’s boat, asked him to put out from shore, and then had Simon go out into the deep and lower his nets. What a disruption! I’ve often pondered about how grumpy I would be if someone walked into my office at the end of the day, asked me to start my computer again, and gave me another couple hours’ worth of work. But Simon did it, and the reward was huge: he and his partners caught so many fish that their nets nearly tore.

Simon would go on to follow Jesus and become one of his closest companions. Simon received a new name, and therefore a new identity. He was tasked by Jesus to “feed my sheep”. He became the first Pope, and he paid the ultimate price for a life lived for Christ alone. We know his name today, and he still has a hand in leading us to the Lord. But none of that would have happened if Simon refused to be disrupted and called to the deep.

We too must follow Jesus’ call out into the deep. We must decide to believe in God even when that belief feels hard. We choose to run to Him in the hard times, relinquishing our own control. We sacrifice our own comfort to give something to Him (say, those few minutes of sleep for a quiet conversation with the Lord before the day gets going). We close the app, put down the phone, and honestly tell God what we’re longing for. Then we look for the ways He is providing it, and we thank Him.

It’s Not Safe, But It’s Worth It

Listen, I know it’s terrifying out there. Those crashing waves can hit us hard. We can pray fervently for something, only for God to gently withhold it and give us something else instead. It can feel scary to open your heart, to entrust Him with your rawest longing. It hurts terribly to get out to the depths, cultivate a desire to rely on God, and then see that your own woundedness is preventing you from fully letting go of some bit of control. We can be overcome by horror at having to say those sins out loud during the sacrament of Reconciliation, where we ask God to forgive and heal us.

Just as surely as I know that a life lived in the depths of faith is scary, I know it’s the best adventure. To me, the wave pool wasn’t even worth entering unless we were going all the way in; it was over my head or bust! I’d feel exhilarated by the same waves that were crashing against me. Though they could knock me down, I could also catch them, jump just in time, and ride that swell for a totally awesome experience. When we dive into faith, we see just how amazing God is. 

When we open our hearts, get raw with God, and pray fervently for something, we can be humbled by the way He meets that desire. No, maybe not always in the way we wanted, but He meets it nonetheless. When we tell Him what hurts, God has the medicine to make us better. When we relinquish control and rely on God, He gives us a life more beautiful than one we could have ever dreamed. And that bit about saying our sins out loud and asking forgiveness and healing? Nothing feels better than the love that God lavishes upon us as we hear His words: I absolve you of your sin.

The Secret to Staying Afloat

How do we get there? How on earth do we go to the deep end of the pool and remain there? That end of the pool is dangerous; it’s hard to stay in it for very long. I cannot count the number of times I’ve stepped forward in faith, gotten out past my comfort zone, got scared, and made a hasty retreat. However, let’s return one last time to my story about the wave pool. The thing that stood out to me as I wrote those first few paragraphs was this: I never went alone. Dad went with me, and he held me. I wasn’t strong enough to tread water for the entire time that wave-maker was sending waves my way. But I always had someone at my side – someone who was bigger, stronger, and – most importantly – would never let me drown.

Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is that someone. In John 10:10-11, Jesus declares, “I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly. I am the good shepherd.” Abundant life. Maybe you’ve heard that promise before, but have you ever stopped to consider what abundant life truly is? It’s a life lived in the deep end, experiencing everything to its fullest degree: the joys, the sorrows, the amazement at God’s providence, the heartache of naming our deepest longings. But we’re assured that we are never alone. Jesus accompanies us to the depths fo Christian life. He walks with us, cares for us, and guides us. Our shepherd never desires to see us fall. When we do, He gently picks us up, sometimes even carrying us for a ways. He encourages us to step into that deeply abundant life.

Living a life of deep faith is always challenging. Making mindset shifts, ever stretching and growing, opening new places in our hearts to God’s love – those are really hard things. Twice in the New Testament the life of faith is compared to a race. In 1 Corinthians 9:24, St. Paul writes, “Do you not know that in a race all the runners compete, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.” And then Hebrews 12:1 says, “let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” In His Word, God promises us a challenge, a race, with a sweet prize at the end. Friends, let us accept the challenge and dive in.

If this stirred something in you—if you’re tired of wading in ankle-deep faith and you’re ready to go deeper—then the Who You Say I Am Identity Retreat was made for you.

This isn’t just another set of reflections. It’s a guided journey to help you understand who God says you are, root your identity in His love, and walk confidently into the deep waters of faith—knowing He’s with you every step of the way.

You don’t have to figure it all out alone. You just have to show up.

Click here for the retreat for mothers.

And here for the retreat for spiritual mothers.