Scuba diving is wild.
If you get too comfortable, you can make stupid mistakes that cost you—and others. Lives are on the line with complacency and carelessness.
But if you never get uncomfortable, you’ll never advance—and you’ll miss out on the most insane underwater scenery and sea life you could ever imagine. Not to mention a whole bunch of fun.
Well, here I was… committed to getting really uncomfortable.
Rich had been working with me on my skills to prepare for this special dive trip: the Komodo Islands. Not for newbies. Everyone going needed to be certified Advanced Open Water scuba divers.
I was nervous, of course—but excited. My diving was decent, thanks to Rich being my trusty, one-on-one dive instructor.
Day one:
I quickly realized I was on a boat full of professional dive guides and instructors who were off the clock—they came to dive, not to coach. Translation? I was the least qualified, the least trained, and anything I couldn’t handle would slow everyone else down. No one was there to babysit.
Cool. Good start.
We arrive at the first dive site and it’s scramble time. I’m getting my gear on, focusing on my breathing to calm myself and my nerves.
Gear? Check.
Air on? Check.
Computer computing? Check.
I approach the side of the boat, take one giant stride, and land in the warm, teal water. I’m OK. I’ve got this!
The dive guide signals, “Everyone ready? Let’s descend!”
I let the air out of my BCD and begin my descent… taking in a nice breath of—
OMG. NO AIR.
No air!! What is happening?!
I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe? I know I turned on my air—I tested it before I jumped! I’m rapidly getting deeper and there is zero air to be had…
Once you let the air out of the BCD to descend, it no longer floats. In fact, it is weighted by design so that you SINK. So now I’m kicking furiously to get to the surface and to stay afloat. (Of course, in my panic, I completely forgot I could manually inflate the BCD. This is why more training is required.)
I’m frantically finning at the surface, screaming toward the boat—
“HELP ME!!”
They can’t bring the boat over; divers are just beneath the surface. Just then, my dive guide pops her head out of the water.
“What’s wrong?”
“No air!!” I frantically bellow.
She reaches back and turns on the stupid air valve. Wow. Cool. Mystery solved. I feel beyond dumb.
No time to process—we need to descend now or miss the dive.
We descend.
I dive terribly. The panic threw me off completely. The heavy current was brutal, and I had to end the dive early. Thirty-eight minutes into a one-hour dive, and I had already blasted through all my air.
Thankfully, the other members of our group had been placed under another dive guide before we ascended, so I didn’t cause everyone to have to end early.
At the surface, I struggled to get back to the boat. Two-to-three-foot waves made it insanely difficult. Worst part? I was stuck behind two old grandpas trying to get up the darn ladder. I swallowed water, went under a couple times, and used every ounce of strength I had left just to stay afloat and climb that ladder.
Great first dive. (Extreme sarcasm.) Cannot wait to do this for a whole week.
It was one of the worst experiences of my life—and it scared me.
It made me mad. And embarrassed.
The next dive was one hour later. After hearing the briefing and seeing the dive site, I thought: This is beyond my skill level. I can’t do this. It was a mistake to think I was ready. Just the thought of it made me feel panic.
I told Rich I wasn’t going. That first dive nearly made me want to quit diving forever.
I had tears in my eyes. I was shaking.
He reassured me I’d be fine…
I assured him I wasn’t going. He respected my decision.
I told my dive guide. She tried to convince me I’d be okay—she’d help me—Nope. I’m good. 
I was too frazzled to even consider it.
Some of the other divers noticed I was staying back. One guy asked why.
I said, “Yeah, I’m not really up for it,” and I think they agreed.
Long story short… I did the third dive. It was fine. I stayed calm and actually noticed some fish, by some miracle.
The next three days, I did three dives each day.
By the last day…
I was having SO much fun. I got the hang of high currents, reef hooks, and really enjoyed it. I was overwhelmed with God’s creation—literally had tears underwater at the beauty of it all.
I’ve never experienced anything so incredible in my life.
You don’t have a week like that and walk away without learning some things. So here it goes…
6 Lessons Diving Taught Me:
1. If you want to stay comfortable, you’re not going to grow. PERIOD.
If I had stayed comfortable, I would’ve never discovered where I needed growth.
I would’ve never experienced failure—or learned from it.
I’d still think I was a decent diver, unaware that this belief was just a figment of my imagination due to me staying in my comfort zone.
You might think you’re awesome—until you get around people who are way more awesome than you.
2. Don’t neglect the basics.
It’s basic to check your air with your dive buddy.
Mine was preoccupied, and instead of waiting for him, I decided to skip the basics and it cost me. I had turned OFF my air—not knowing the boat staff had already turned it ON for me. My dive buddy would have caught it and the whole fiasco could have been avoided.
Rookie move.
I’ll never jump into the ocean without confirming my life support is on again.
No matter how far you advance, you still need the basics:
Devotional life.
Church community.
Forgiveness.
Loving lost people.
Good character.
You are never “too advanced” for these things.
3. Resetting is OK. Quitting is NOT.
I needed to reset before I got back in the water.
I reevaluated my training. I renewed my mind. I calmed myself down.
I reminded myself why I started diving in the first place:
Because I love it.
If I had quit, I would’ve missed out on growth, challenges, and the chance to experience something few people ever do.
It was incredible to be in the middle of the deep blue with God—just enjoying His creation along side my best friend, Rich.
If you quit, you miss out.
Get tougher. Don’t give up and you win.
4. Don’t let ego or pride make your decisions.
I was embarrassed to skip the second dive.
I almost went—just to save face.
But what would that have done? Put myself and others at risk, diving with a compromised mindset.
When I decided my safety mattered more than my ego, I was proud of that decision.
It takes humility to swallow your pride and stay teachable. To admit you aren’t as awesome as you thought and put yourself in check.
How often do we skip this part in life—just to appear like we have it all together?
We are hurting ourselves and blocking real growth by letting ego take the lead.
5. Don’t compare yourself to others—you’re at where you’re at!
I was shocked at how much pressure I put on myself comparing myself to these other dive masters. I know better.
I felt stupid, wishing I wasn’t on the boat with these people at all.
Worried I’d slow everyone down.
Worried I’d be an inconvenience.
But… they were all once beginners, too.
They’ve been where I was.
You can only be where you are.
Who cares where everyone else is?
My growth is my responsibility.
And when I do advance, I’ll remember what it felt like to be new.
That’s where compassion is born.
6. Embrace new levels—and look forward to the fruit.
New levels mean:
Big or difficult decisions.
Failure.
Feeling stupid.
Ridicule.
Discomfort.
Fear.
Disappointment.
Exposed weaknesses.
Inner demons showing their ugly faces.
But what’s the fruit of pushing through?
Walking away from that dive boat, I felt proud. I had pushed through something hard—and finally tasted the fruit of perseverance. My eyes filled with tears as I turned to Rich and thanked him for bringing me to Komodo. I know that might sound silly, but I was overwhelmed. Grateful. God had given me the chance to do something incredible—and to grow in ways I didn’t see coming.
Had I quit?
100% pure regret and “what if’s” would have been the fruit of me quitting. Staying in your comfort zone may feel safe, but it still costs you—and regret wounds far more than the lessons learned from failing forward.
I’ll choose new levels every time to avoid those feelings.
QUESTION:
When is the last time you placed yourself into a position of risk, discomfort, or in a ‘student’ role with something that took all of your guts and faith to accomplish?
You may be coasting and not recognize it because you are keeping your life cushioned and within the realm of your control or talents, a place where you are the expert in all your circles.
That is no way to live. Jesus has more for you if you are willing to get your buns into the discomfort of being challenged, squeezed and pushed to success.
Maybe it’s time to dive in—with no air—and see where He wants to take you!
