Pin It Down
I’m a bit scared. Even a bit queasy. Possibly a touch dizzy. And, quite likely, I’m all those things more than a ‘bit’ – it’s likely more like ‘A LOT’.
There are some changes that are hard—hard in the amount of work they require, of the stretching and growing and letting-go-to-add-on that will be necessitated. And I don’t know about you, but oftentimes when I am faced with daunting things, I dither. I dawdle. I faff about with questions like ‘what if this is the wrong path?’ and ‘what if I’m doing this for the wrong reason?’ and ‘what if I completely and utterly fail?’. You know, all the kinds of things that can sometimes feel like one is merely trying to gain clarity and God’s blessing to “Yes, go this way, absolutely” – good, pious, holy work.
Well, at least until recently I could more or less convince myself I was merely looking for a clearer clarity of purpose. Because I’ve realized, at least with a few things, all my questions and ponderings and wonderings are merely delaying tactics when it comes to taking the first step on a new path. And I am tired, so tired, of creating these needless delays, of trying so hard to avoid failure I’m failing to try.
It’s time to stop second-guessing myself out of these second chances. It’s time to pin down a destination – even if it’s only a shimmer on the horizon – and to get down to the work of trusting, of taking chances, of seeing what possibilities are out there. For I can’t seem to stop thinking about Abraham of the Old Testament, who started the journey to the land God would show him before the final destination had been revealed. He stepped out, he made mistakes, and he kept going. He built altars and memorials where he met God and God met him. He didn’t stop. He kept stepping out in faith, trusting and learning and growing and building a legacy he only caught a whisper of while on this side of eternity.
So rather than trap myself in an endless loop of go-nowhere questions, I’m looking for ways to step out in even some knock-kneed faith to see what is around the next corner. (It's time, dear heart, to be brave.)