You know that big thing you’ve been wanting to do? The thing that’s a little out of your comfort zone? The one that would be hard and even a little bit scary? The one you keep putting off, telling yourself maybe later because I sure as heck don’t have energy for that now? The thing that keeps you straightening up your back and saying Yes, maybe I will do that because I am woman, hear me roar and then the Dick Dastardly voice in your head yells back, Who do you think you are, thinking you could ever do something like that? But you keep feeling secret tugs toward it anyway, even as his wheezy dog Muttley rolls around on the floor of your brain, laughing at you?
Maybe you want to learn Spanish or write a book or just clean out a storage room that you avoid every day because of …you know… avalanche. Maybe you want to finally start something you’ve always felt born to do but life dragged you up other roads. Or maybe you need to pull out of a relationship that only brings you down or you need to stick up for someone who needs a voice. (Maybe that someone is you.) Or maybe you want to start a new exercise routine because you went to the doctor on your birthday yesterday (what were you thinking?) and stood on the scale in your lightest clothes and still nearly passed out at the shock at what popped up with its mean digital numbers flashing at you, and now you’re wrecked and offended that somehow in the last two years ten pounds jumped at you out of nowhere and latched onto your body when you weren’t paying attention and had clearly not given permission. Not that I would know anything about that.
Doing hard things is scary.
It’s a good thing that I have children to consult about how to go about it.
Actually I caught their advice by accident. Their teachers shared the story of Moses on Sunday, and the part came where God wanted Moses to go to the Pharaoh and get him to set the Israelites free. The children heard about how Moses didn’t want to do it and asked God if God couldn’t send somebody else, pretty please. God said to him that his brother Aaron could go with Moses- and now get along, little doggy.
At the end of the story, the teachers asked, “I wonder what Moses did to get ready to speak to the Pharaoh about setting the people free?” I expected that the kids might say that Moses prayed to God for help, or that Moses thought about it a lot and maybe talked to Aaron and other people who loved God and knew about the Pharaoh. Maybe Moses gave practice speeches and prayed some more and practiced some more- the way you do before a debate.
So what did the kids say? The teachers wrote down the responses.
I can just hear a child saying one of their answers.
“Well,” said a second grader, shrugging her shoulders. “I guess Moses started walking to Egypt.”
Ha!
That’s it! That’s the WISE WISE WISE answer!
Moses put on his sandals, headed out the door, being careful not to let the screen hit his backside on the way out, and he started walking!
Second grade mystery child, I hear you! No more putting off. No more planning and even praying. We can pray and plan while we’re walking! There’s no sense waiting. Let’s start right now. Baby steps maybe, baby steps while we pray and think and practice and find others to support us. But let’s not hang around, chewing our fingernails. Get along, little doggy.
I’m getting.
PS. All this walking and Egypt talk reminds me of one of my most favorite novels in the whole wide world! It’s Clyde Edgerton’s Walking Across Egypt which has nothing to do with Egypt so don’t buy it as a travel guide! Buy it and read it if you want to enjoy a hilarious, beautifully told southern story with heart. I bet you’ll love it!