Sometimes A Calculated Risk Pays Off in Spades

I had to do one of my first research reports in 5th grade. I don’t think I’ve spent a whole lot of time checking into the state of Indiana before or since.

I wrote up a report on the state’s population size, its different regions, its climate, likely some stuff on its economy, and probably a few other things. My handwriting was nice and neat (for a change), and I assembled my papers and supporting graphics into one of those folders with the little brass things you stick through the holes in the paper to keep it secure in the folder.

On the day we were supposed to turn it in, I was pretty happy with my well-researched work of academic prowess. I had placed it carefully in my Trapper Keeper and brought it to class without even bending the edges.

As I looked around the class, I was horrified to realize that I had done nothing at all for the cover! While some kids had color photos, printouts, or elaborate drawings on the front of their state reports, all I had was a plain blue folder.

In a panic, I racked my brain about what to do. There was no possible way to do anything substantial before turning it in. That kid over there had cut out pictures of famous landmarks from their state and used a glue stick to fix them on the cover. Kids were already starting to hand their reports in!

The best I could do was to haphazardly draw a picture freehand. I whipped the report open to a picture of the state’s shape and committed the proportions and south border to memory, then started drawing on the front. The drawing was a little off center, but I topped it off with a star roughly where the capital city was. Then I threw the state name in big letters under it and put my name under that. The cover design wasn’t very good, but it was the best I could do in such a short time. I knew I’d get no points at all for the cover if I didn’t do anything, so what did I have to lose?

I don’t remember how I did on the report, but I remember that I got three out of 10 points for the cover portion. Not my best work, but three was better than zero.

If you’re not really ready to jump into this “Jesus thing” with both feet, ask yourself: “what do I have to lose?” Most people are tentative about having to give up some part of their lifestyle or quit something they’ve grown to like. This isn’t like a gym membership where you feel you have to get in shape before you walk through the doors for the first time. Come as you are. Let’s say you grow deeply committed and change your whole lifestyle and then it turns out there’s nothing waiting for us after death. In that case you won’t even possess a consciousness to realize what you’ve given up. If, on the other hand, Christ actually is who He says He is, you will have gained immeasurably more than what you had before. Sounds like very little risk for an immense payoff.

What do you have to lose?