Move

Don Miller is making me think today. Seriously think.

I thrive on being inspired. It picks me up off the ground enough to see what could be on the horizon, and gives me perspective on where I left my footsteps back on the ground. But, what a waste it would be to not act on such inspiration. Right? That's like being content with being in love with love versus being in love with a person who loves you back. What a great risk, life is. I've been content on yearning, on being inspired to inspiration, instead of being inspired to action. Inspiration moves me, but doesn't make me move. I guess I have yet to introduce myself to Courage, Inspiration's counterpart.

What am I willing to risk? What stakes would I raise to take Courage's hand and MOVE? What kind of life am I looking to live?

I'm getting better at admitting what I want without feeling bad or wrong about it. I need to be honest with myself if I'm going to do anything of great importance in my life.

I'm pulled in several different directions- between things like TWLOHA and authorship, photographer and musician, world traveler and homebody. There are a great many things I put value in.

I'm realizing that maybe it's time to grow out of old attitudes. The old ones that keep me back. I feel like shedding that skin. I feel like embracing new ideas, new possibilities, new opportunities.

Over the last couple of weeks, a few things have become more clear to me. One of them being that I'm the one holding myself back. I always fear what other people will think, but most of them really do believe that I can do what I dream of. I think I need to start believing them too. For me it keeps coming back to the whole walking on water thing. He can't make me get out of the boat. But He believes in me- He knows my potential and He knows what He can do with me if I let myself become someone He and I can both respect. Peter believed God could do anything, but didn't have that kind of faith in himself- that he could do miraculous things because God believed he could, because of his faith that Jesus wouldn't ask him to walk on the water if He wasn't God, if He wasn't in control, if He wasn't capable of catching Peter when he started to sink.

And in this moment, sitting on my bed, looking out the window, I can hear this small voice in my chest and feel the tears in my eyes as I say to God, "please, please, please, please, please..." and I watch a bat fly by in silhouette with a smile, "...ask me to come out to You on the water...I want to know what it is to live." The lamps in the room smile their warm light on me, even to the corners of the room, as my 53 second song becomes louder than the water around my small boat.

He wants me to move.