I've set my watch for 5 minutes. I'm supposed to be leaving right now, on my way to Portland with my beautiful daughter for a couple days of book choosing and lattes. But it's Friday and Lisa-Jo has given this writing prompt:
RISK.
GO
It's much easier just to stay home, and when I'm out it's easier to tuck inside the shell.
There is so much risk associated with being in public. What if I say something stupid? What if I say something irrelevant? What if I don't know what to say at all and I pull a Peter-on-the-mount?
I still remember the first time my dad made me order for myself at a restaurant. I was Piglet-p-p-p-petrified, certain that the waitress would...I don't know, laugh at me? Give me the wrong food? Not understand me? I remember that I was scared, just not what I was scared of.
Something irrational, I'm sure.
And I remember many many foot-in-mouth times.
But risk is what I need.
My husband actually tells me to talk more. Crazy. He thinks I have something profound to say.
I've stood in front of large groups and sat with small ones, said lots of dumb, silly, laughable and forgettable things, and I'm always scared of the risk.
But a few weeks ago this came to mind (I hesitate to say the Lord told me...so take it for what it's worth to you): I, you, we all who follow Christ, need to meet lots and lots of people.
Scary. That means lots and lots of risk.
But I, you, we all, have something worth risking ourselves for, and something worth saying.
STOP