Two people live inside of me.
One wants to sprint towards the bits of life that catch my curiosity; it wants to plunge into the grandeur of the unknown.
And some days, this one wins.
I take off running without all the questions and the concerns and the fear.
I love these days.
But other times, I am afraid.
Afraid to chase after that which calls to me.
Afraid to step towards that which looks wildly exciting . - AND wildly intimidating.
I question:
What if it's too big?
What if it swallows me up?
What if I wind up with a deflated dingy around my waist, still on the shore?
That may just happen.
It has happened before.
And chances are, it will happen again.
But we have not been made to walk safely along the sea.
We've not been made to live by fear.
We're made to delight in things.
We're made to run and to swim,
and to risk getting tousled around out there.
We're made to taste the salty waters,
to know the sandy bottoms of the sea,
not to tip-toe neatly by the water's edge.
One wants to sprint towards the bits of life that catch my curiosity; it wants to plunge into the grandeur of the unknown.
And some days, this one wins.
I take off running without all the questions and the concerns and the fear.
I love these days.
But other times, I am afraid.
Afraid to chase after that which calls to me.
Afraid to step towards that which looks wildly exciting . - AND wildly intimidating.
I question:
What if it's too big?
What if it swallows me up?
What if I wind up with a deflated dingy around my waist, still on the shore?
That may just happen.
It has happened before.
And chances are, it will happen again.
But we have not been made to walk safely along the sea.
We've not been made to live by fear.
We're made to delight in things.
We're made to run and to swim,
and to risk getting tousled around out there.
We're made to taste the salty waters,
to know the sandy bottoms of the sea,
not to tip-toe neatly by the water's edge.