Help. Seriously…help. I’m trying here. I wake up every morning. Three days out of the work week I head to a hip hop fitness dance class at 5:45am. I’m packing something new daily. I’m meeting with people to say goodbye. I’m posting my life as a giant for sale sign, but I’m not praying… I can’t do it. I just can’t talk to you right now.
I have no idea why I’m feeling so overwhelmed. I mean, Yes, I am moving across the country in less than a month. Yes, I am selling practically everything I have ever owned. Yes, I am walking away from my ultimate comfort zone. And yet, in the strangest way, I cannot bring myself to talk to you. I know that everything that’s happening to me right now is a part of your plan. I know that. I also know that you know that I can’t talk to you right now. I just can’t.
Talking to you will unleash how totally petrified I am to leave. Talking to you will send me in to this spiraling of tears– guilt– and frustration for how your logic doesn’t match with mine. Talking to you will make me angry because I feel ungrateful and imperfect, and a let down to this gift of change you’ve given me. I don’t get it, I don’ feel worthy of where I know you are taking me in this life, and so I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t understand how something I wanted so badly, something that felt so spiritually sound, is currently causing me an immense amount of distress. Why am I so negative?
…I’m scared. that’s why. It’s easier to be negative, passive aggressive, and short-tempered, than it is to admit that I am flat out terrified of failing this mission you have for me. I feel like I am being slowly stripped of everything I know. Good things, challenging things, and situations you’ve called me to move on from. I have death grip on this life, and you and gingerly, yet purposefully, calling me to let go.
The last time we talked I prayed a big prayer; I asked you to remove anything from my life that wasn’t for me. I asked you to transform me into who you made me to be. I had no idea that the transformation process would be so shattering to my current identity.
I look at myself and I see, deep in my heart, everything you created me to be. A woman who will transform into this beacon of hope to people who cannot see beyond the immediacy of their circumstances. A voice of reason to other people who share an identity of being smothered by depression and anxiety in world that calls you to be at your best at all times. I see that you created me to be an example of dreamer who actualized everything you have planned for me. I see it all. And I’m scare d…
I think this is one of the greatest misses in all the success stories people share. Either I’m a total nut, or people just don’t get into the weeds with this part…
The thing is, I know what I am capable of. I know that I’m unique and wonderfully made. I know that I will literally set this world on fire with everything that lives within me. I know that my purpose is so much greater than I could’ve ever imagined. The hard part is stepping into that. The hard part is knowing that my strengths can quickly become my weaknesses if I over do it…and that in the same breathe, overthinking everything will keep me right where I am. The hard part is turning my back on the crowd to lead the orchestra. My entire life has been so centered on appeasing the crowd. I’ve always wanted to fit in.
This mission you’ve given me, God, is scary, because it’s a reminder that you never intended for me to fit in. You didn’t make me to be like anyone else in this world. That’s scary for this small town girl who’s primary goal in life has been to have a boyfriend and a dog to go through life with. You haven’t called me to simplicity– you’ve called me to greatness…and to whom much is given…much is required…
So I write this letter to you, God, because I can’t pray, I’m scared. I write this letter to you, God, because I hope that writing will help remind me that you have given me so much. I write this letter to remind myself that everything I am fearing is a reaction to leaving my comfort zone. I write this letter to remind myself that I am covered, despite my fear, and despite my resistance to pray. I write this letter to remind myself that it doesn’t matter how far I think I’m running away from you…you are right here and you love me…and I can’t run away from you.
Believe in the Journey