Embracing the Uncomfortable

     Last week, I sat with a dear friend of mine as we reflected on the year we were leaving behind. Lessons we'd learned, memories we'd made, people we'd met, ways we'd seen God break through. And as we looked forward to this next year of 2018, she asked me,

"What is one thing you want to grow in this next year?"

I thought for a few moments.

"Living fearlessly," I responded.

     Choosing to walk the line between running away and grabbing control when things started to go south. I continued to explain to her how I was going to do this. I was going to trust God, and be bold, and live without fear.

      And that sounds really great, right? It would be so great if I could count down, "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4..." and start the new year with no fear. Just tell myself, "Nope, you're not afraid of anything and you can live boldly flawlessly and you're going to start NOW."

But as you are probably aware, it doesn't quite work that way.

     See, a few days ago, I woke up thinking, "Man, I should really write a blog post about this. Neat and tidy and poetic, listing the ways that this is going to be my resolution this year. It'll be deep and meaningful and people will cry and it will be beautiful."

     And that all went out the window about four short hours later when I received a phone call regarding a big decision I had made from someone who didn't like that I'd made this decision. Someone trying to convince me to change this decision. There was yelling. There was blaming. And there were my tears as I tried to hold it together and not back down. I got off the phone and I remember thinking, "Only three days into the new year and I've already failed. If I was really living boldly and fearlessly, I wouldn't be crying. This lady wouldn't be calling me to yell at me, because I would have communicated my choice so clearly that she would just agree with me and respect my choice. I wouldn't be feeling hurt by her accusations."

And as I looked back on it, and compared it to my New Years resolution, I realized something.

Fearlessness and living boldly isn't always neat and tidy.

It's not always received with peace and respect.

It can be messy.

And it can be loud.

And it can be uncomfortable.

And actually, that's okay.

Living boldly and fearlessly doesn't mean I'll never feel uncomfortable.

     It means that I embrace the uncomfortable, knowing that in that, Holy Spirit is my comforter. It means that I walk headfirst into the destiny that scares me, knowing that His perfect love is what will vanquish my fear. It means that I laugh joyfully in the messiness around me, knowing that He works all things together for my good. It means I embrace the fact that I can't be fearless on my own, and it that, embrace His love and peace.

Living fearlessly isn't the absence of fear in my life.

     It's the realization that His love is what carries me forward, and His grace is what cleans up behind me.

So, rather than resolving to "live fearlessly", I'd rather resolve to finger paint.

Because finger painting is messy.

     It gets all over your hands, all over your paper, all over you, and sometimes, all over everything around you.

And it's beautiful.

     So here's to living colourfully. Reds, blues, yellows, greens, purples spilling all over the canvas of my life, trusting in my Abba Daddy to help me clean up areas outside the lines.

I'd rather have too many colours than an empty white canvas.

     Here's to living messily. Creating masterpieces I never would be able to achieve if I held my paintbrush with a shaking, nervous hand.

Spontaneous can be just as beautiful as a carefully planned out picture.

     Here's to living like a child. Not with a critical spirit of myself, my masterpieces, and the others around me, but with a joy and wonder at the beauty all around me and a passion to run after it.

     For it's the wide-eyed, ever trusting children who will enter into the beautiful, colourful, joyful kingdom of heaven.

     Here's to living in my Abba Daddy's love. Walking in the identity He's given me. Radiant. Accepted. Precious. Cherished. Safe. And rejecting any identity that doesn't line up with that.

For I am my beloved's and He is mine.

Here's to the mess.

Here's to embracing the uncomfortable.

Here's to living fearlessly.