too late to take it back…

I was all the way out the front door to head to school when the panic hit. What in the world did I just do?!?! What on EARTH was I thinking?

I wasn't thinking. That was the problem. I was reading. I was listening. I was responding. Now, I'm wishing I'd been thinking.

But if I'd thought about it, truth be told, I wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have set the goals to finish not only my rough draft but THREE formal book proposals by the end of the year. I wouldn't have made the commitment to treat this like a part time job and give it 15 hours per week, minimum. And I wouldn't have taken Chris Guillebeau's advice to "amass a small army" and broadcast it to over thirty of my friends and family for prayer and support. Because NOW that I'm thinking about it, that is CRAZY. And I'm wondering if I can do it. And why on earth I thought I could.

Something got stirred up over these last few weeks and I stepped out in faith and put things "out there" and now I'm wishing a little that they were still the tidy, quiet little pipe dreams inside of my head that a few people knew I entertained but didn't know to what extent my mind went with them. I want to push the little blue "undo" button and have the words disappear and with them my newly-voiced intentions. But it's too late. And that is both a good thing and a bad thing.

It's too late. I've put it out there. You've read it. You know the secret desires and fears of my heart. And you will know whether or not I achieve them. And that is a fearful, vulnerable thing. But I'm tired of living in fear and life-sucking comfort. I'm uncomfortable now. And that will be a good thing, if I live to tell about it.

Of course this is crazy. And impossible. And improbable. And thousands of people do it every year. Why the heck can't I be one of them?

All things are possible with God. Stepping out. Taking risks. Getting uncomfortable. Fighting back against fear and doubt. Putting words on a page. Turning pages into chapters. Turning chapters into books. It is possible.

But not if I don't try.

What in the world did I just do? I thumbed my nose at fear and pushed comfort out of my chair at the computer. I put words down on a page, which is all I am able to do. And as for the rest of it that is out of my hands, I asked for a little bit of help and a whole lot of prayer. Which seemed like a good idea at the time.

And still is now.