God and I got into a staring contest. I blinked first. He probably smiled.
He knows I’m a control freak.
I like to plan shit.
I like to organize it and make it look pretty.
I like to follow steps to achieve a goal, and I like to know the end result.
I imagine God and I in a sitting dyad. Our faces are inches a part and my hands are resting comfortably in his. My poker face sucks so I’m probably smiling and maybe chuckling intermittently. He’s better at keeping a straight face.
Why am I staring? Well, aside from the fact that I’m competitive and I want to win, I want control. Not engaging in this charade means I have to go live my life, and what does that look like? I’m not entirely sure. So I keep staring.
It’s hard to say how long we’ve been contesting. He could probably tell you. Granted, there have been reprieves along the way mostly because I’ve closed my eyes, or darted my eyeballs somewhere else only to return to the locked gaze.
As long as I keep staring, I know what I’m doing. Staring. If I stop staring I don’t know what will happen.
And then one day I decided to blink.
You know what I realized while I was sitting there…staring? I couldn’t live my mission, execute a dream, or change the world in this position. I had to get up. And it’s hard to stare someone down (even God) when you’re moving.
“Just jump,” a friend told me in November. “Just do it…jump.”
“Can I plug my nose?” I asked.
“Yes, you can plug your nose. Just jump.”
So that’s what I did. I stopped staring. I blinked, plugged my nose and jumped.
Some of the most profound moments in my life have been when I’ve abandoned worry, surrendered to the risk, and gave up my control.
I don’t believe that God has special rewards for people who jump much like I don’t believe he sabotages our efforts just to lead us through the proverbial desert another 40 years.
But there is power in mobilizing yourself. Good things (and some bad ones, too) are going to happen when we are vulnerable enough to loosen our grip and live our best lives.
I will never stop learning this lesson. It’s a daily choice: stare, or live? Stare? Live? Stare? Adventure? Stare? Trust?
Staring is comfortable, and I mean, his eyes are gorgeous. But if I’m staring/controlling, I’m not living. And I intend to live.