Everything in our life makes that dream seem so impossible. So foolish and silly. Too reckless and irresponsible. Truthfully, I'm afraid to even consider it.
You see, we've had a big move happen in our story that it didn't go particularly smooth. It was hard, and so I'm tentative and hesitant . . . and just so damn afraid.
I'm afraid of taking my family to places we aren't ready for yet, and of the consequences that come with risk. The last time we moved away I was excited and basked in the big open sky of where we were. A girl's gotta spread her wings, you know, and anyone who knows me knows that I needed to do just that.
Unity between my groom and me is something I struggled hard and long over. It came with a gutting and a breaking, and an ultimate surrender and willingness for what. ever. I'd give up my dreams for him if that's what I needed to do to preserve the willingness for unity God's worked out in me. And for this girl, let me tell you, that's no small thing!
I want the itch of this dream (and others that go with it) to go away.
It feels like a big, fat bug sitting on my shoulders and I've screamed at God to Get. It. Off!
Yet, beauty chases me and dreams follow me, and I can't not want that . . .
even that which I cannot really, fully see.
I'm still that girl who wants to spread her wings; the girl who loves big, wide open skies and who is always excited to go where beauty is. This girl, though, has grown and she's afraid of herself wanting to move too far ahead of where God wants us now.
As much as I'm willing to go, I'm also definitely willing to stay. And, again, that is truly no small thing!
I used to do almost anything to maintain comfort. Nowadays, I walk straight into warm feet and sweaty hands to pursue Hope with a middle name of Risk. I can't avoid it and have found that actually the discomfort lies in the not pursuing and in keeping focused on comfort, instead.
I'm doing things these days like reaching out for meetings with people for no specific reason, to follow a sometimes silly and stupid-seeming nudge, all the while surrendering any expectation of anything specific from happening . . . again, no small thing.
You see, there's no fear when we do what we're led to do. When we go where we need to go at the time, even though it may not seem to fit or linearly line up. Sure, there might be a smidge of nervousness, but there's also a peace that comes when we simply do the exact things that we know not doing would bring the most uncomfortable feeling of all.
I'm not sure what I'm saying or what I'm doing, except to say this:
I'm loosening my grip, I'm willing, and yet I'm still pursuing.
this is my worship.