Tag Archives: Fear

Be Like the Bird

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Sometimes I’m afraid to embrace change. Even if I’m not happy with the way things are, I’m afraid a change might leave me even more unhappy so I just leave things alone instead. But change and discomfort is often the road to growth and renewal. Sometimes we have to release our iron grasp on what we have to open our hands up, empty and ready, to something different and new.

I look back at my life, at the times when I let go of one thing and took hold of another, and I see how those times of risk and change helped me grow and move forward. And I think too that even if something hadn’t worked out the way I hoped, I still would likely have regretted not taking the chance more than I would have regretted the potential failure.

Right now I find myself in a holding pattern, afraid to move, afraid to try, afraid to speak—and it isn’t like me to be so paralyzed by fear. Why am I so afraid to move forward, to change, to speak? I don’t know.

I find this blog stands before me a frightful blank canvas and I’m so cautious to put up words, to speak my heart and open my soul in this space as I once did. I’m trying to face the fear, to say the words, to put myself out here once again.

I’ve hidden behind pictures and fluff but I thank you for your patience as I find my way back to the words, to the heart and soul of this space.

“Be like the bird who, pausing in her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing she hath wings.” Victor Hugo

Don’t Look Back

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Sometimes I look back at who I was a year ago or five years ago and I’m embarrassed by some of the things I said or did. The advent of social media doesn’t help either because now if my memory fails me, Facebook and even this blog will be here to remind me of my less than stellar self. Super.

Sometimes I want to gather up everyone who knew me before right now and apologize for all the stupid thing I ever said or did. I feel this urgency to explain to people that I’m different now, that I’m sorry and I’ve changed.

This is great except I’ll probably look back ten years from now at the person I am today and want to apologize all over again.

You see, if I’m moving in the right direction then hopefully I’m always growing and changing from who I am today into a more loving, mature person tomorrow. That’s a good thing. The bad thing is looking back and remembering who I was at a different place in the story. But what I’m trying to remember is this: There’s no need to be ashamed of who you were yesterday if you are becoming a better person today.

Yes, I’m sorry for some of the things I said or did in the past and I do hope people know that. But at the same time I’m glad to be aware of what I did wrong because hopefully that means I’ve learned and grown and am not still making the same mistakes today.

So don’t be ashamed of who you were; be proud of who you are becoming. If you can’t be proud of who you are becoming, then worry about that instead of the past.

“…But this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14

A Beautiful Mess

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I used to think everything in life had to be just so to be happy. But I’ve started to see just how jumbled up and messy life really is. Life is often both beautiful and heart wrenching at the same time. I would like life to be organized into tidy little boxes—the good stuff goes over here, the bad stuff stands alone over there. But that’s not how it usually works.

One night Darren and I were at the old house we’re remodeling. The sky was clear and the stars were sparkling over the fields without the obstruction of city lights to hide them. We pulled a piano bench out in the yard and sat there together under the stars dreaming and planning our life in this new place. We looked up at the sky and took in the stars that we so rarely get to see. While we sat there, chins up looking and dreaming, the most beautiful shooting star I have ever seen zipped by with a trail of flame behind it that you could actually see. I gasped out loud; I was so startled and delighted by it.

That moment with Darren on the piano bench under the stars was perfect. It’s a memory I’ll hold in my heart forever about a time when we were young and we were weaving our lives and dreams together.

But even as beautiful as that moment with Darren was, it’s a sad memory in my heart too. That same day my cousin’s little teenage daughter was killed in a car accident. On that same beautiful night under the stars, I remember pacing the driveway in the dark aching inside and praying for my cousin and my aunt and uncle. I couldn’t comprehend their pain and I couldn’t understand why so much hurt exists in the world.

That moment and that memory will always be bittersweet. It will always be one of my favorite memories with Darren and it will always remind me of my cousin and all she is going through; there is no way to separate the two.

That’s how life is—it’s beautiful and it’s heart breaking. What I’m starting to see is this: Life does not have to be perfectly happy or completely beautiful to be good. Life is a smattering of the good and the bad. It’s messy and complicated and beautiful all at the same time. And that’s okay.

Learning to Need Other People

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For the last four years I have lived in Massachusetts—a thousand miles from my family, friends, and the place where I grew up—1,367 miles to be exact. I love it and I hate it here and it seems the divide in my heart spans wider and wider each year.

New England is beautiful and filled with culture and history. There is always something new to see and do. I love being close to the ocean and the mountains and all the beautiful old cities. I love living close to Darren’s brother and his family. I love the friends I have made here. But I miss my family and my home. I miss the Midwest prairies and lazy afternoons spent with family doing nothing but just being together.

Truth be told, and it isn’t easy for me to say, I am very lonely here. I’m lonely without my family and friends and that place called home—nothing fills that void in my heart because nothing and no one else can.

This week I thought a lot about being lonely. Probably because it was Thanksgiving and we were up with all of Darren’s family for the holiday and I was missing being with my family.

I thought about why I am so lonely here even after four years. I thought about why I haven’t built more friendships and community. Why am I so alone in this place even after all this time?

In thinking through all these things, I realized something about myself. I realized I don’t ever want to need other people. I already knew I’m hard to get to know—I’ve been told that many times. But I never realized the reason I’m so hard to get to know is because I don’t want to need other people or let them in. I don’t want to be vulnerable. I don’t want to look like I’m not all put together. I don’t want to look like I need help with anything or need to learn anything. I want to be in control and be fine all by myself.

Only I’m not.

I’m lonely. And I’m tired. And I’m tired of being alone and trying to look like I don’t need any help.

I need friendship, I need community, I need other people to help me find my way and grow.

I think about when Darren and I start a family and the thought of raising children in this place by myself scares me. I won’t have my mom. I won’t have my grandma or my sister-in-laws (except for the one wonderful sister-in-law I do have here on Darren’s side). I don’t know anything about babies or children. I don’t know when they’re supposed to eat or sleep or how to tell when they’re sick. And I don’t want to figure any of these things out by myself. I want—and need–friendship and community. I need moms and mentors who can help me learn the things I don’t know.

I need other people.

Like it or not, I’m not all put together and I can’t do everything on my own. And if I keep chasing people away by pretending that I’m fine by myself, then I will never be able to build the friendships and community I need.

So I’m learning.

I’m learning to let people in. Learning to admit that I am tired, and lonely, and I need other people.

I have this quiet prayer in my heart right now—that God would give me moms and mentors and that I would have the humility to accept their love and help when they come.

Because I need help, and I need people, and I’m tired of pretending I can do all of this on my own.

Confidence and Insecurity

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I struggle a lot with insecurity. I worry about how I look and what people think of me. I’ve been thinking about why I feel so insecure and care so much about other people’s opinions. What I realized was pretty simple: I worry and feel insecure because I’m filled with pride.

Here’s the pattern I see:

{1} I’m filled with pride so I worry about what other people think of me.

{2} Because I worry about what other people think of me, I feel like I need to look and act a certain way to be good enough.

{3} To look that certain way I spend too much time, thought, and money on clothing and my physical appearance.

{4} Then I end up comparing myself to other people to see if I’m good enough.

{5} If I don’t feel good enough, I get jealous and competitive and try to outdo other people.

{6} If I compare myself to someone and decide I’m actually more attractive or talented than they are, then my heart is filled with pride and an I’m-better-than-you attitude.

{7} Because I’m worried about what people will think of me, I hide behind silence. I’m afraid if I start talking I’ll say something stupid and people won’t like me. I only say what’s safe. I only write what’s safe. I don’t really let people in or share my heart.

When I base my value on the opinions of other people, I end up feeling like I’ll never be good enough. I’ll never be as smart, funny, or talented as that other writer or as thin and put together as that other girl.

I tell myself if I could just have that outfit, or more friends, or a more popular blog—then I will be good enough. Then I will be confident and satisfied. Then I can be the person I’m supposed to be.

But these are all lies I tell myself.

Because the problem isn’t my outfit or personality or anything else about who I am.

My problem is in what I look to for security.

If I’m looking to myself or to other people I will never find satisfaction or peace in my heart. My heart will only ever be filled with pride and jealousy.

The problem isn’t who I am. The problem isn’t who I’m not. The problem is when I try to find myself in anything but God.

Donald Miller said,

“None of us are here by accident. We were born because God loves to create. And He was pleased when you were born.”

He’s right. And if I could just believe he’s right then maybe I could finally have peace in my heart about who I am. Because who I am is exactly who God wanted me to be.

I’m not perfect, but I’m complete in Christ.

I’m not the outfit I’m wearing or how much I weigh. I’m not the number of friends I have or the amount of money I make.

I’m a part of God’s creation, a chapter (or line) in his story. The story isn’t about me and I’m not the author. This is his story and I’m here only to play a part.

God has a plan for me and a part he wants me to play in his narrative. It would be a sad waste to spend my whole life trying to tell a story about myself instead of him.

It would be a sad waste to worry more about what people think about me than what they know about my God.

It would be a sad waste to spend all my time and thought trying to be the prettiest girl in the room so people will look at and admire me rather than helping others look at and admire my God.

What a waste of words to write only the safe things that will make people like me rather than the scary things that might point someone to something so much better than anything I can offer.

What a waste to spend my life silent and insecure because all I think about is the story I’m telling rather than the greater narrative in which I play a part.

As long as I look to myself and the opinions of others, I will remain proud and insecure. But if I will look to Christ and find my small place in his great narrative, then I can live with the confidence and security I need to accomplish all I am meant to do in this life.

Summer Days and Life Lessons

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Earlier this week Darren and I went to the beach with our friends, Victor and Olga. V and O are in love with a beach in Rhode Island that Darren and I had never seen. So we all loaded in our cars and took of to see this spot we’ve heard so much about. A few minutes out from the beach we parked and climbed into Victor’s boat for the rest of the trip out to their spot.

I’m so glad they decided to share this place with us because it’s honestly the prettiest beach front I’ve seen in New England. I was completely mesmerized the whole day. As soon as we were on shore, I was busy walking along the water gathering shells and rocks and I even found a crab claw I plan on terrorizing Darren with.

{Such a happy couple}

{Earthy treasures from the sea}

There was bright green sea weed floating around and lots of the rocks had taken on the same lime green color—so of course I filled my pockets with them to haul back home and scatter around my house. Every time we go to the beach I look for little earthy treasures to take home and decorate with. My living room is filled with mason jars full of sand and shells from all over. There’s also a whole birch tree in my living room, because yes, I drag those indoors too :]

{I drug the tree in the house by myself and cut it in half on the kitchen floor with a hack saw…wahaha}

Darren sometimes forbids me from bringing any more nature indoors and I always smile like I’m listening and fill my pockets anyway. I think he doesn’t mind in the end because he’s always showing off our jars of sea treasure when we have company and telling everyone about the adventures that went along with each bit of nature we’ve brought back home.

Once we unloaded all our stuff from the boat and settled in on the beach, the boys decided to take the boat back out on the ocean exploring. Olga and I opted for staying on the beach with the kids and away from the wild ocean waves—we know too well by now how those boys like to drive the boat like it’s a water rocket.

{The boys}

The kids took off for the sand and waves and were quickly busy digging holes and building sand castles by the sea.

{The kids + Victor digging in the sand}

Victor and Olga are Russian. They have three children; the oldest is in school and speaks English perfectly. Their daughter hasn’t started school yet and only speaks Russian. And then there’s the baby who speaks, well, baby. They also have a little boy from the Ukraine staying with them for the summer and he only speaks Ukrainian. So there were three children playing together prattling off in three different languages and yet they understood each other perfectly. Childhood is simply a language all its own.

{All the world is magic when you are five years old}

Olga and I settled into camping chairs in the sand with our legs and arms stretched out hoping for a kiss from the sun.

Just me and Olga.

Olga scares me a little bit because she’s very pretty and put together. She always wears nice clothes and has her hair done. She even smells good…how ridiculous is that? I always walk away from my time with her feeling like a frump and loser who needs to get her life together. It’s not Olga’s fault I feel this way either. She’s very nice and doesn’t do anything to make me feel bad. It’s my own jealousy and insecurity that leaves me feeling this way and not anything she needs to change. I share this because I knew going into our little beach trip that I wouldn’t have any fun if I let my feelings about O intimidate me. I decided this time I wanted things to be different. I wanted to relax and give O a chance instead of putting her in a little box of perfection she may not herself want to be in.

On the boat ride over to the beach I kept glancing over at her. She looked lovely. Her outfit was cute. Her hair wasn’t attacking her in the wind like mine was. I wanted to push her off the boat. No I didn’t…well, I sort of did :] But I decided I was going to do my best to open up and get to know her better that day. Usually I clam up and try to play it cool so she won’t figure out how not together my life is. But I knew I was being fake and frivolous and it was time to get past fear and insecurity. So after the boys left we started chatting…just our usual small talk at first. But then I started asking her questions and she asked me questions too. I thought I would be miserable trying to talk to her and open up but before I knew it the sun was dipping behind the sandy hills and were wrapping up in sweaters to stay warm. Olga told me about her life. She told me about some of the things that are bothering her and things that aren’t going right. She would stop sometimes, struggling to think of a word in English or how to communicate an idea from Russian to English. She told me I’m the only person she ever really speaks to in English and she feels silly when she can’t think of a word. I couldn’t believe Olga ever felt silly in front of me. I told her I forget words in English too and it’s the only language I speak :]

{Beautiful Olga}

I learned a lot about O that day and I learned a lot about myself too. I learned that as perfect as Olga looks and seems, she is a girl just like me. A girl with a heart that can be broken, feelings that get hurt, and fears that follow her just like me. I learned that I don’t need to try to be like Olga to have my life put together. I just need to be who I am, as imperfect as that may be. If I wear things because Olga wears them or say things because Olga says them, I’m not more like her, I’m just less like me. I cheat myself by thinking imitation will bring me any closer to who I should be. The truth is, Olga and I are very different people. We grew up in different countries and even in America, take part in very different cultures. She is six years older than me and the mother of three children. We are in very different places in life. How can I expect to know and be all that she is when we are so different in the very fibers that make us who we are? I realized that day, as we snacked on fresh fruit and treats from the Russian grocer, that my fears and insecurities are just that—fear and insecurity. There is nothing wrong with me and there is nothing unattainable about Olga; we are just different people. I’m glad I gave O a chance because I left the beach that day with a great sense of peace and confidence. Instead of feeling unattractive and inadequate, I left feeling inspired. Inspired to be the person I’m meant to be. Inspired to learn from the things I admire in Olga, not to merely mimic them. Inspired to grow and change…into myself, not into someone else.

{This is who I am, no one else}

The boys came back with the last rays of light and soon we were all marching off to get ice cream together. We sat on a wall with our ice cream watching the boats bobble on the water. There was a cannon like BOOM and people screamed; I laughed. Laughter is a nervous reaction for me. I have a feeling when the ol’ apocalypse gets here I’ll be laying on the ground giggling while everyone else runs for their lives. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism :] Victor said they do that BOOM to let everyone know it’s sunset. Olga joked about how we should probably know it’s sunset without a cannon going off and we all laughed. Of course she’s funny too…maybe I’ll push her off the boat on the way back home :]

It was a lovely day of sand and sunshine…and a life lesson or two as well. I’m thankful.

We left after dark. The black water looked like pools of ink as we glided over it. I wanted to dip my quill in it and write you a story, this story.


Perspective

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I spent Saturday exploring Plymouth, Mass where the Pilgrims first explored this land. In the late afternoon, a storm blew in over the ocean. A fierce wall of slate gray clouds stretched like reaching hands over the face of the water bringing darkness and chill of cold air over everything it touched. I stood by the bay awestruck (and a little scared) by the clouds billowing and changing overhead. There’s no view quite like a storm at sea. You stand by and watch as in slow motion the storm reaches and stretches consuming every sliver of sunshine and blue sky in its path. Huge swaths of rain fall and wave like ribbons. I stand on the bay snapping pictures of the ever-changing sky until the winds blow hard and the drops begin to fall–then it’s a race back to the car before the torrents let loose and all the slate gray from above comes splashing down below.

Today I’m home caught again in the ruckus of a thunderstorm. The rain falls fast and hard as the gray clouds zip by overhead. But today I can’t see the storm–only the rain and the sound of thunder. There’s no panoramic view or way to gain perspective on all that rumbles above. I couldn’t see the storm coming and I don’t know when it will leave.

Isn’t life the same? If only I could stand on the bay and watch life stretch out before me. If only I could see the story beginning to end–dark though it may be and threatening, at least I would know. I would know when to stand in awe snapping pictures of the overwhelming beauty and when to run for cover from the heartache and hurt. But life doesn’t give us warning or panoramic views. Life doesn’t tell us when heartache is coming or when it will leave. We stand in the storm seeing and hearing only the rain and thunder–not the beauty and majesty of the clouds that bring our trouble. I think of the storm at sea, and try to remember that even trouble falls from beauty and brings beauty in its wake. The storm lasts for a season and at times we believe we will be consumed–but we won’t. There is brightness after the rain. Rainbows to bring light, color, and the hope of a promise.

God may come in storm clouds dark, fall on us in trials and pain–but there is beauty in the panorama of it all. If we could stand on the bay and see his plan–see his purpose stretch out in fierce beauty from beginning to end–then we would understand. Then we would be awestruck at his divine plan. We would stand in the falling rain, and though we may be afraid of the storm clouds and thunder overhead, we would see there is a beginning and an end–a purpose stretching with beauty and hope through all the dark clouds and rain drops that beat around us.

Though you stand in the thunderstorm and see no plan. Though your heart is broken and overwhelmed. Know, always know, there is beauty overhead. Know the rain falls from beauty and brings beauty in its wake. Know, always know, there is a plan.

Statute of Limitations

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Okay, so this post doesn’t actually have anything to do with the statute of limitations in the legal sense–I just thought it was a clever title. You’ve been punked. I apologize :] Seriously though, I’ve been thinking about something I learned when I was in college–that being that I can do anything I have to. There are certain things, like public speaking, that I would consider nearly impossible for me to do. I’ll cry or pass out or die on stage I tell myself, but then I’m faced with a situation where I absolutely have to do what I think will make cry or die and it turns out, I live.

I had to take two public speaking classes in college, one my freshmen year and the other my senior year. I had two choices: Take and pass both classes or don’t graduate from college. So, I took both classes (and somehow got a good grade in both) and graduated. Before I went to college, I would have told myself  public speaking was something I would never and could never do–but I did it, because I had to.

Take it up a notch–public speaking in a foreign language, eek. I was also required to take four semesters of a foreign language in college, and to make sure we all wanted to kill ourselves by the end, we were required to give presentations and speeches in that language in front of class. I’m not going to say I earned a good grade on this one–I just passed somehow, but I did what I otherwise  would have sworn impossible, what I would have run from had I not been forced to do it.

Even though overcoming fear and facing difficulties didn’t earn me any college credit per se, it was still one of the most important lessons I learned in school; it’s a lesson I have fallen back on many times since then. Learning to do what I normally wouldn’t have has shown me how brave and determined I can be and it’s shown me an inner strength I never would have recognized had I run from intimidating situations instead of standing my ground and accomplishing my goals.

In life, there are sure to be situations where you have to cross a bridge to reach a goal. You will have two choices: Face your fear and achieve or give into fear and lose your dream–there will be no shortcuts, tricks, or any way around it. When you face these situations, I hope you stand your ground. You will be amazed by how much courage you will have for the next task when you can look back at a previous obstacle you’ve overcome and can remind yourself, “If I got through that, then I can get through this too.”

I believe that each situation I face in life is used by God to change me and prepare me for future tasks and situations. If I refuse to do something I know I should, I will not learn the lessons and gain the courage I need for the next task. In backing down to fear, I start limiting myself and my ability to face greater and greater fears and responsibilities. I don’t know what waits for me down the road–will I lose someone I love, will I be injured, will I face financial difficulty? I don’t know. All I know today is I must face my fear and grow to prepare myself for tomorrow’s challenges–whatever they are.

What Do I Do Now?

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“There is a Power, whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,—

The desert and illimitable air

Lone wandering, but not lost.”
I first studied the poetry of William Cullen Bryant in a college literature course. I didn’t care much for poetry in college because I thought it was hard to read and understand. But even in college I loved this one stanza from Bryant’s poem To A Waterfowl; I especially love the last line of the stanza– “Lone wondering, but not lost.” That is how I sometimes feel–like I’m wondering alone through life lost and confused. It’s good to be reminded that even when I am lonely, I am not truly alone and even when I feel lost, “There is a Power, whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast.” Life can certainly feel like a pathless coast. What am I doing? What am I supposed to be doing? What do I do next? What does God want–what is his “will”?
Knowing the will of God is something you hear a lot about but many of the answers you receive are vague and confusing. Some people think God’s will (or plan for your life) is mystical and rooted in some kind of feeling that God is leading you to one thing or the other. Others think God’s will is very precise and concrete and that there are very specific and definite things you should be doing.  Personally, I believe God’s will is very practical and is very  step by step and day by day. I don’t believe I can tell you exactly what God’s will is for me for the rest of my life but I do believe I know what it is for today. For today God’s will is the practical things before me–going to work and doing my best, taking care of our home, being financially responsible so we are able to move forward with our goals and plans, being faithful and obedient to the truth, and so on. I don’t believe God is trying to trick me or hide his plans from me. I believe that as I walk in daily obedience God will daily make my path straight and will show  me what I should be doing little by little.
Today is not the hard part for me–tomorrow is. Tomorrow is hard because I don’t like waiting and I want to know what’s next. Tomorrow is hard because Darren and I are thinking through some big decisions that will change all of our tomorrows and it’s not easy not knowing exactly what is best and which path we should take.  One decision could affect all of the others and may possibly change the course we’re on forever–that’s scary and it’s a big responsibility. When I’m struggling with knowing what to do next and worried about making a mistake, the last stanza of Bryant’s poem comforts me:
“He, who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must trace alone,
Will lead my steps aright” (Italics mine).
Sometimes decisions are hard to make and it’s not easy knowing what to do next, but in these moments I believe God simply wants me  to look to him and trust that he “Will lead my steps alright.” I need to pray, obey, do the best that I know how to every day one step at a time–and trust that God will take care of the rest.
Here’s the complete poem that I have been referring to:
To A Waterfowl

Whither, ‘midst falling dew,

While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue
          Thy solitary way?
Vainly the fowler’s eye
Might mark thy distant flight, to do thee wrong,
As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,
Thy figure floats along.
Seek’st thou the plashy brink
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,
Or where the rocking billows rise and sink
On the chaféd ocean side?
There is a Power, whose care
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,—
The desert and illimitable air
Lone wandering, but not lost.
All day thy wings have fanned,
At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere;
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
Though the dark night is near.
And soon that toil shall end,
Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,
And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend,
Soon, o’er thy sheltered nest.
Thou’rt gone, the abyss of heaven
Hath swallowed up thy form, yet, on my heart
Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,
And shall not soon depart.
He, who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must trace alone,
Will lead my steps aright.”

Knocking On The Wrong Door

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       Eighteen months ago I quit my job and had no idea what I was supposed to do with my life. The smart one (my husband) had also left his job but had at least already lined something else up–he was taking a risk but he had a job and his brains to back him up. Not me, I was scanning the internet and newspaper in a panicked flurry trying to figure out how to get myself out of the mess of joblessness I had created. All along I was praying that God would open doors and lead me into just the right job–and I prayed, and hunted, and prayed, and hunted…on and on it went.

       Then it occurred to me–maybe I was pounding on all the wrong doors and asking for all the wrong things. Maybe the reason I couldn’t find a full-time job was because I wasn’t supposed to have one. After all, the reason Darren and I decided to quit our jobs in the first place was because Darren was working 70+ hours a week and I was working an odd schedule so there were days when the only times we saw each other were when we got up in the morning and when we went to the bed at night. I would sit in the apartment all day by myself only to leave for work when Darren was getting home. It got to the point where we decided what we were doing just wasn’t working anymore and it was time for a change. The change we had in mind was both of us working normal Monday to Friday 8 to 5 jobs not me being jobless. Darren upheld his end of the deal while I grew frustrated and discouraged.

       But then I had that thought–that maybe the reason I wasn’t getting anywhere was because I was going in the wrong direction and God just wasn’t going to open the wrong door for me. Maybe God had a different door for me to walk through and if I would just stop trying to break down the door I wanted He would open the right door for me without the struggle. Even with this thought percolating in my brain, I knew I couldn’t just tell Daren, “Guess what? I’m not looking for a job after all so have fun working yourself to death while I chillax.” When Darren took his new job it was with the understanding that we would both be working and that would lessen the risk of him starting over with fewer hours and a pay cut. Oh, and did I mention we had just bought a house? Oh ya, ya we did. I had no idea what to do.

       Then Darren surprised me–he came home one day and told me he really loved the way life was without both of us working. He loved working normal hours and his new job was working out beautifully. He loved coming home to me and actually getting to spend time together. He loved having the weekends to go places and do things together and maybe another hectic full-time job wasn’t the best thing for me (or us) right now. His words were the answer I needed. Knowing that he was loving life as much as I was, that he wasn’t worried about money, and that he wouldn’t be disappointed in me if I decided to stop working–it was a huge relief and the push I needed to make up my mind and settle on staying home.

       Once I stopped trying to break down the wrong door with a sledge-hammer the right doors opened up. I enjoyed staying home and spending time with Darren and eventually a position opened up for me at the same company where Darren works. So I found my job after all and we still get to enjoy a peaceful life together (I mean we work together and come home together!) and everything worked out when I was finally willing to let go of my plan and open my heart to God’s plan.

       If you’re pounding and pounding and the door is locked tight maybe you’re pounding on the wrong door. Maybe God has closed that door tight because he has a different door open and waiting for you if you’ll just walk through it.