Sunday 9 September 2018

Take the Step, You're Not Alone



I’m a big picture person when it comes to my dreams and goals for the future. I hold on pretty tight to that moment in my imagination when it happens and I achieve what I’ve been working toward, playing it over and over to inspire me, but block out a lot of the details because honestly, they’re a little scary. I’m a big fan of my comfort zone. I like learning new things and going new places, just not the first time. If we could just skip that first time for everything, I’d be good. 
I remember four times in life in particular when I was rushing toward a new situation and, much as I knew I’d be fine once I got there, was utterly terrified. The impending births of my three kids were three of them (yikes, becoming a parent (even for the third time) is terrifying! I absolutely love being a mum and always knew I would but there were so many unknowns – whether I could handle the lack of sleep, whether the baby would be happy or colicky or just plain grumpy, how their older siblings would handle the change, whether I’d packed everything I needed that wasn’t on the long list of what to bring to the hospital, etc, etc, etc…) and the other was moving house. 
It was the house one that got to me the most. I tried and tried to trust God that wherever we moved, it would be good for our family because he was in control and already there but there were a lot of nights spent panicking rather than resting in faith. I knew wherever we moved would be great, but I liked where I was. I was comfortable. 
There was one night in particular that I remember being caught in a panic, yet again, and trying, yet again, to remind myself that our new house, wherever it would be, wasn’t a secret to God. That he was already there. I imagined in my head that picture I’m sure so many of you have seen of Jesus standing beside a door, lantern in hand, waiting. (I know, it’s usually used to symbolise him waiting for us to accept his knock at the door (Revelations 3:20) but it seemed to fit this situation too.) And I did picture it, kind of. For a moment at least. Thing was, he didn’t stay by the door. 
Nope. In this figurative new house, the one he already knew, he wasn’t waiting by the door. He was inside. And he wasn’t holding a lantern. Every light in the house was on. There was my imagined self, walking up to the door of this dauntingly unknown new house only to find Jesus in the kitchen, pulling a roast out of the oven, table set and the house smelling amazing, welcoming us home. 
It was the most incredible picture and one I’ve been clinging to like crazy lately. No, I’m not moving house but I do feel like my dreams of being a published author are getting closer to being realised (or maybe I’m just hopeful… J). Which, of course, comes with both excitement and a fair share of nerves. All those little steps I’ve been trying not to think about – having to talk face to face with publishing professionals rather than hiding behind emails, getting a professional (or at least better than a selfie) author photo, contracts and paperwork, etc – are getting harder to avoid. And yes, they totally scare me. 
But the thing is, I’m not alone in them. The big steps, the little ones, none of them are taken alone. God is by my side, holding me through every one of them. But the coolest thing? He’s also at the end. In that moment when my dream is realised. Calling me to come. Calling out encouragement. 
Like a friend calling out from the waves, the ones splashing my feet where I stand at the water’s edge. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”
Or the friend who’s gone home early from a long day skiing and gotten the fire burning and the roast cooked. “Come on in, welcome home.”
Yes, there are daunting aspects to walking forward, but you don’t take them alone. So, take the step. Walk out in faith, even if your legs shake. Because your greatest encourager is already there, waiting to welcome you home. 
And who doesn’t love a good roast J


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