Say Yes

A few hours after returning home from the Valley, I woke up in what felt like a drunken stupor and tried to make sense of the thoughts flooding my mind.  Had I really gotten naked center stage in front of hundreds of people? And…oh dear…had I really given out my blog address to those hundreds of people with a promise to write everyday?

Funny thing is, I didn’t mind the getting naked part, I’d gladly do that again, but the blog promise… well–let me tell you my friends–that definitely made me question my sanity.

“What was I thinking?” I wondered. “Seriously. What have I done?”

“What you’ve done,” a gentle, reassuring voice whispered to my heart, “Is said Yes.”

The thought instantly comforted me as I remembered the following words written by Rory Feek,

“If you would have told me back then, that that one decision would open the door for all of Joey’s dreams to come true (and dreams that I never even dared to dream also), I wouldn’t have believed you. I had no idea what would happen. I only knew that I was scared and nervous, and wanted to say no. In my mind, it didn’t add up. So for once, I didn’t use my mind, I used my heart and just said yes… And that made all the difference”

I don’t know why I felt compelled to make those promises on that stage–maybe all of that nakedness had gone to my head–and I don’t know if that decision will lead to any greater consequence than to simply help me fulfill the goals that I’ve put off for far too long.

But what I do know is that I said yes…

and yes is where it all begins.

“If you don’t choose behaviors beyond your natural instincts for what you like and don’t like, you will miss brilliant opportunities in your life.” ~Mark Bowden

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(me, standing naked in front of the crowd)

a misunderstanding

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I walked away that night not in anger.  Nor do I feel animosity toward anyone now.

I walked away because–just as a storm awakens the pain from my once broken ankle–the storm of words that night aroused the demons that lay dormant inside of my once broken soul.

Indignation brought an explanation to my lips, but my pride held it in like bile on my tongue until I could swallow it back down.  And I walked away.

I walked away as the sounds of praise echoed behind me, praise for my new found bravery and changed life.  But the truth is that she–the one misunderstood–was the brave one.

With each setting sun–though years removed from the battle–she returned to the trenches.  She’d lock the doors, check the windows and peek in on her sleeping babies, in hopes of finding a peace strong enough to keep the nightmares away.

Her peculiar rituals and perceived weaknesses were her greatest strengths as she bravely survived the only way she knew how. She–the one misunderstood–is the one I’m most proud of.

I’m told that I’m braver now but the truth is, I’m not brave.  Through the loving grace of my Savior–I am healed.

I walked away that night into the darkness,

because now my nights belong to me.

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