Fearless

I love this picture of Riley. I snapped it at a wedding we went to last month. She had the time of her life. She danced, tumbled, jumped and laughed across this field. So carefree. 

Every time I have looked back through my pictures and seen the pictures from this night I have been overwhelmed by how I feel. I couldn't pin point the emotion at first. 

Envy. 

I am envious of my daughter's fearless freedom.

She fearlessly paraded around this lawn. Just like she does anywhere we go. She desires to be delighted in... and she knows that she is. She desires to be protected.... and she knows that she is. She is oblivious to any judgement (to the degree that her tights fell down and she didn't care).

I am afraid. 

Paralyzed 

Anxious

Ashamed

It is embarrassing and almost comical. I would rather not try and feel safe than try and risk failure. Trying new things make me feel exposed. 

And I am not even talking about things that seem understandable. Like singing before a crowd, or dancing on a stage. 

I am talking about cooking a new meal for my family. 

I would rather eat beans and rice or the same old chicken dish than risk buying everything, taking all the time to make it, and it being horrible... or burnt... or ruined. 

I have realized this for a while. And hated it. I feel stupid. I want to shake it but I feel trapped.  And I feel like it is a reflection of me. I let that fearfulness define me. 

But it's being stripped away. 

And I feel a little bit naked.   

I have been stepping out more over the last couple years. Cooking more. Crafting more. But I have felt like it was time to get drastic. And to be okay with the fact that what is drastic for me is easy for someone else. To give myself the grace that, as my sister said, my experience has taught me that I am only loved for doing good, and that risking failure is risking being unloved. I know in my head that isn't truth. That God loved me deeply and intimately before I ever existed, let alone did anything good. But I am realizing that I have to risk that kind of failure in order to move that belief from my head to my heart. 

So here I go. 

I am going to write. 

Me, who fought to pass English classes. With a sister who is an amazingly gifted writer. A mom who published a book. And another sister with stories that will bring you to tears and challenge your faith. 

It is far from my gifting but as I have been working through some trials I have found it an amazing tool to help me process and heal. But I have remained private. In the safety of a journal, occasionally shared with my husband or sisters, but never made public. Cause that is safe. But it is time to let go of feeling safe. 

I am doing 7 in 7. 

In short that means that I will be writing 7 complete posts in 7 days. 

I am terrified and excited to see what this turns into and praying that this is just the beginning of a season of God stripping away my fears and giving me a boldness that honors him.