I haven’t blogged here in what feels like about a million years…long story, but it involves the busiest semester of my life and a 50 hour per week nanny gig. Suffice it to say, I’m back, and I think this is officially one of my new favourite songs. Enjoy!
“I Stand”–Idina Menzel
“Wish I…” is gone. “Wish I…” died yesterday. “I will…” lives here now.
What’s “Wish I…”? That’s not strong. That’s not victory. That’s defeatism.
“Wish I…” is a challenge for a new day. “Wish I…” is fear talking, not hope.
“Wish I…” is dead. “I will…” killed it. “All things are possible…” killed it. “Victory in Jesus” killed it. I don’t need to listen to “Wish I…” or its cousin “I can’t…” ever again.
Jump.
Sometimes the most beautiful poetry is prose.
Sometimes the most beautiful people are overlooked.
Sometimes the strongest position seems the weakest.
Sometimes the wisest advice comes from the “foolish”.
Sometimes it takes more faith to disbelieve than to believe.
Sometimes what makes a man a hero is his belief that he is “nothing special”.
Sometimes what makes a girl a princess is her belief that she is “only a girl”.
Sometimes the best way to fight something is by stepping away.
Sometimes the most beautiful music does not hold to conventional theory.
Sometimes the ones who are revered are the ones who should be revering
Someone Else.
Sometimes the richest ones have no money.
Sometimes the winners finish last.
Sometimes the ones who are right suffer.
Sometimes the wisest one is “just a kid”.
Sometimes the last thing you try, works.
Sometimes the ones with the brightest futures have the darkest pasts.
Sometimes the best toy is the box.
Sometimes the remedy for the most complex problem is simple.
Welcome to the Kingdom.
Here, the last are first, the first are last, and the great ones serve others.
Here, we love each other, encourage each other and look out for one another.
Here, there is grace, forgiveness, peace, and joy.
Are you ready?
Then let’s go.
Is it really “safe”-to be “safe”?
That doesn’t seem to make any sense at all. Of course it’s “safe” to be “safe”; they wouldn’t call it “safe” if it wasn’t. But might it not be better to take a few risks, if it means avoiding a bigger danger? Should we risk being unsafe in order to be truly safe?
Suppose you are in a building, and it catches fire. There are flames across the door; the room you are in will go up next. The only way out: a third story window overlooking the backyard. So…jump? Or roast?
Of course you’d jump. You’ve got to escape that fire! But under normal circumstances, jumping out of a third story window is not going to enter your mind as a “safe” or “normal” thing to do. In fact, try that, and they’ll probably send you to play with the men in the white coats. But with a wall of flame behind you, suddenly the whole circumstance changes. Now the only “safe” action is to risk your life by jumping out of the window.
How about some less obvious stuff. Is it “safe” to trust that little feeling or prompting about which school you should go to? What about your future? What about the little voice that says to go ahead and major in something that seems crazy, or to go ahead and take a job that seems way off your career path? Is it really “safe” to do something “crazy”, like get married and move to a place you know nothing about?
What if risking the unsafe is best thing for you? What if staying would really endanger you in the long run? Could you do it? Can you trust that God knows what’s best for you?
What if everything you do that makes people shake their heads and think you’re completely crazy is really just another step on the road to something awesome? What if every struggle you go through that all your friends and family think you could’ve avoided just by doing XYZ or not doing XYZ is really planned out to equip you to deal with something down the road? Maybe it’s something you don’t see now, but when it comes you realise: you couldn’t have dealt with this event now without knowledge gained from that event in your past. Maybe it’s not even you. What if, one day, your son or daughter comes to you and says, “Hey, I don’t know how to deal with this”…and you’ve been right where they are?
The future is unknown. I can’t tell you what’s going to happen in the next five minutes, let alone the rest of my life. What if the rough stuff I’m going through now is really just another mile marker on the “broken road that lead me straight to you”? What if I look back on all this stuff now and say “I know better how to live, love, and give because of all that stuff that happened when I was 20″? Shouldn’t I take these risks now, then?
Take the risks now. You may need them later.
The greatest risk isn’t jumping out of a plane.
It isn’t an adrenaline rush. It’s not risking physical pain or death. It’s something far less obvious.
The greatest risk is love.
When you love someone, you take the greatest risk imaginable. You risk hurt, betrayal, and mistreatment, intentional or not. You risk what may be the greatest pain of all: ignorance.
For the one you love to ignore you, even unintentionally-this can be worse than outright hostility. It leaves you in a cold, lonely place:
…and still they don’t realise. And as they walk by, talking with their friends, leafing through their planner, talking on their phone, or holding hands with their special one, you’re left where you sit: cold, tired, and lonely, with tears in your eyes.
You risk all that the second you love someone. “Why bother?” you ask. “Why love at all?”
Because they’re worth it! Jesus died for them, too. He risked every bit of that and more for you and for them, too. So why shouldn’t you risk it, too? If you love them, aren’t they worth that? Go ahead, take that risk-they’re worth it!
