I like security. A lot. I like knowing where I’m going, who’s going to be there, and when I get to go home.
But there’s a sense of real beauty in doing things in which I cannot predict the outcome. This semester I’m in a printmaking class, and the work is unlike anything I’ve tried to do before. I think it’s going to be hard. I pray it will be beautiful.
I’ve joined a community group at my church and tonight I’m going for the very first time. I think I’m going to be entirely out of my element, but I’m praying God can make it beautiful.
There’s mission trips and internships and opportunities that seem too far away to grasp, but I apply anyway because I’m too afraid of wasting my life to be afraid to fall short. I am afraid of failing, too, but a voice in my brain is whispering but what if you fly?
So I learn to dance and I read books by people who don’t agree with my philosophy on life and slowly let myself be pulled and challenged. And I don’t always like it, but I’m beginning to think that God doesn’t really want us to sit still. Comfort is not a virtue.
There’s a quote that seems to be attributed to Banksy that says “It’s not art unless it has the potential to be a disaster.” I feel like life is like that sometimes. I’m not going to do anything worth-while, worth-living, until I step out into the abyss.
For me, safety is solitude with four walls and a cup of tea. But God says to trust Him, for He is safety, and that He has given me people and places that will make me beautiful. In chapel this week we sang one of my favorite Christian songs. It’s by Gungor and the chorus goes
You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of the dust;
You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us.
Thank God for that.