I’m going to write, and I’m going to write freely.
I’m freaking out about a situation going on in my life right now.
I was clearly called in a certain direction. I knew that direction was the right choice, and I knew that it was something I needed to pursue.
I sit here, writing this, hands shaking with nerves, stomach doing an olympic tumbling routine. I’m unsteady and unsure with how this is going to go. I don’t know what is going to happen next. I am fearful that everything is about to change.
I’m scared of leaving my comfort zone. I’m terrified.
Tears are welling up in my eyes as I think about what could happen. My thoughts tend to hop on the autobahn at the worst timing. Fear consumes me like a thick fog hovering the freeway. The cars can’t push through it, they can’t see five feet in front of them, but they think they know what is miles ahead.
But do they? Do I?
I don’t want to step away from my comfort zone because I’m good at it, I fit well with it, I enjoy it, and I like the people that are in it with me. I finally found a spot in which I’m content.
Contentment is my biggest foe.
Contentment is what is keeping me from everything this world has to offer me. In my heart, I know I’m not at the place where I need to be. In my heart, I know where I am supposed to be. I’m supposed to be out there, in this big old world, making a difference. I’m supposed to helping others and showing people the grace and freedom I’ve found. Right?
Take the step. Take the step. Take the step.
I just keep hearing that over and over. Is it my thoughts? Is it my inner self trying to tell me something? Is it divine intervention?
It has to be. I believe in signs, and lately they’ve been coming at me with bright, neon, glaring lights.
One of my favorite quotes is “A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there.”
I guess you could say that I’m just growing.