Fearless is not a word I would use to describe myself.
Careful. Orderly. Responsible. Thoughtful.
These adjectives are more accurate.
I tend to analyze situations before jumping in. I wait and pray and ponder, questioning extensively if said activity lines up with my values, my priorities, my written goals, my faith.
Does the activity I’m about to choose fit the mold for who I am supposed to be? For who others expect I should be?
For who the Bible says I should be?
I weigh my time and commitments on whether or not I’m pleasing God and my husband, or whether I’m sacrificing what I believe is one of my highest callings: motherhood. (Actually, I’ve discovered that I have clung so tightly to my role as mother ~ have taken it so seriously, in fact ~ that I risk saying no to many good yesses for fear I’ll fall short in this area. God and I are working this out. He keeps telling me He’s got my back; I think I’m finally learning to believe Him.)
In all of the chaos and distractions and noise of daily living, I strive to discern that still, small voice instructing me to “turn this way,” or “turn that,” and then hope beyond all hope I’m hearing correctly.
How much easier would life be if we all simply heard correctly?
Or heard at all?
Sometimes all that voice tells me is to be still myself.
In all of this decision-making, I am very, very careful. Responsible. Painstakingly deliberate.
Not at all Fearless.
I’ve always imagined fearless as a way of describing the pushing of one’s self physically, of taking great risks. Activities like cliff-diving. High marking on a mountain with a snowmachine. Going really, really fast in a motorized vehicle. Jumping off a second-story deck onto the trampoline.
Driving without a seatbelt.
And so not me.
One of my greatest fears is being so consumed with hearing God’s voice that I fill all my days with mediocrity just waiting….waiting…..waiting…..instead of passionately pursuing the very desires He placed in my heart.
Today I’m seeing Fearless as a different type of description. In some ways it can be very loud, and scary, and larger than life. It can be all high-risk and adrenaline and speed.
And still, that will never really be me.
But there’s a quieter Fearless that I feel growing in my spirit lately, a Fearless that has more to do with living life in full color and pursuing passions with gusto. Not worrying so much about what is correct and what is expected and what others are doing. Not waiting for the stars to align or the clouds to part or a lightening bolt from heaven to guide the way (although I believe my God can do all these things ).
It’s letting my dreams grow, even if that means being a little “out there” sometimes. It’s spending loads of time on activities that make my heart sing even if it’s irresponsible. It’s being willing to look silly or uneducated or, gasp, careless.
It’s the Fearless knowledge and acceptance of who I am in Christ, and in who He created me to be, that offers me the freedom and grace to lift my eyes to Him each morning and pray:
Sadly, that was never the life of freedom He intended for us, His followers. Will you join me on this new path? Will you sit beside me and tell me I can, if only because I think I can’t?
Do you mind if we don’t wear seatbelts?