Risk calls us into deeper love

A nearly 100 year old dress. It fit my great grandmother, then my mom, now me.

I’ve been thinking about the age where I’ll pass it down and the stories I want to pass with it. It would come with stories of hope. Stories about redemption and adventure. Stories from the night that beauty came from ashes, joy came from mourning.

I think one of the biggest things that gets in my way is the willingness to risk. I’m learning that even if something is wrapped in risk, it doesn’t mean it’s not good. There is wisdom and there is wildness – we can live in the middle.

I’m starting to do this brave thing of not fearing the rug being pulled from under me or always looking over my shoulder. Fearing what’s around the corner is a sexy form of self sabotage. A beautiful thing the lord is showing me that what’s “around the corner” actually isn’t that scary after all – the monster hiding in the closet turned out to be a pile of pillows. Our sharp corners were smoothed into soft edges, gentle to hold.

If you asked me to tell a story today, I’d talk about the times we were past giving up and had no idea that miracles were waiting for us.

"Let the good in without asking why it’s late or when it’s leaving." We miss out on joy when we make it a game of how to lose the least.

I want nothing short of all god has for me. I want abundance more than self preservation. Loosened grips and unclenched fists. Jumping off the waterfall, not watching from the shore. Following to the edge of the map where we see the most honest version of Him.

Risk calls us into deeper love. Don’t tap out before you can see around the corner. This is where the story gets good.

 

writings from home

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How dreaming can unlock hope

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On emptyness and lack | Promise to unroll the map