Recently, I laid something down that has been a huge part of my life for the past seven years. It is something I have loved and treasured, that has enriched my life beyond measure. Many of you know that I have been a Sales Director with Mary Kay for sometime, but recently, I stepped down from that position. I’ll still be servicing my customers and selling this amazing product — in fact, it is my honor to represent a company like Mary Kay. But my time as a leader in the company has come to an end. God has called me to do a new thing.
And this new thing is taking form, slowly but surely, but not without obstacles (does ANYBODY have ANY idea how to make a short film very inexpensively???). The truth is, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve simply surrounded myself with people who seem to believe in what I’m doing. I’m trying to make connections. I’m watching for opportunity and trying to make things happen. But most of all, I’m trying to trust.
Let’s talk about this trust thing, shall we? I don’t know about you, but for me, it doesn’t come easy. It means relinquishing control. It’s like driving down a foggy highway at high speed and thinking, “It’s okay. My body will just know when to turn to avoid that brick wall.” It’s a little hard to let go and, like my hot yoga class last night, just go with the flow and not sweat it.
I think the hardest part of all is that right now, I don’t have a title. Not that I’m all into to titles. But yesterday, someone asked me what I do, and I had to say, “Well, I guess right now I’m a stay at home mom. I’m starting my own business, but it’s just in the beginning stages, so right now, I’m a stay at home mom with a little something on the side — work-wise, that is.” Yep, that’s what I said. That’s me and my stellar conversational skills.
Of course this led to questions about my new business, and the guy fell in love with my business model, and lo and behold, we might collaborate at a later date. But that’ll be in a different blog post. This one is about how I’m supposed to know how to create something to collaborate with him on in the first place.
I was hanging out with a friend of mine yesterday. He and I are definitely a God-date, in that it was God who initiated our friendship and we’ve been playing, as Jay calls it, “Spiritual Ping Pong” ever since. As I think I wrote in a previous blog post, he once took me aside and told me there was something bigger I was supposed to be doing. While I’m not quite ready yet to tell you all about what I’m doing, I can tell you that since he pulled me aside that day in church, this idea that I had floating around in my head has become a business plan. And Jay continues to be a healthy thorn in my procrastinating side, in that he won’t let me off the hook about my fears. He insists that I make the big asks, and he encourages my big thinking. He said yesterday, “It’s hard to do smaller things.” And it is! When we work, think, exist in smallness, everything is cramped and difficult. We are limited, resources are scarce, payoffs are small. It’s just as easy to go big. They used to tell me that in acting school all the time — it’s easier to go big and tone it down than it is to start small and try to draw the big thing out.
But big is scary.
When I was a kid, we never really had a lot of money, and I grew up thinking I didn’t really belong in fancy places. Any white tablecloth restaurant made me feel “less than” — and I was immediately uncomfortable and afraid to make a mistake. Would I pick up the wrong utensil? Would I do or say something stupid? With this new project, I really have no idea what I’m doing. But sometimes, the big stuff we’re supposed to do — our purpose — is about stepping into a place we don’t think we have a right to. I can’t take credit for that nugget of wisdom. That was something else Jay said yesterday.
I was reading this morning about Isaac. He and his family were trying to find a place to land…much like me. He found himself in a position where he had to re-dig wells that he thought had already been dug — he was starting over. Just like me. He found some wells, but more than once, obstacles stopped him from proceeding — other people who hindered his progress. Finally, he dug another well, and there were no arguments over this one. “…So he named it Rehoboth (Wide-Open-Spaces) saying, “Now God has given us plenty of space to spread out in the land…That very night, God appeared to him and said, ‘I am the God of Abraham your father; don’t fear a thing because I’m with you. I’ll bless you and make your children flourish because of Abraham my servant.” (Genesis 26:22-24)
By relinquishing what has gone before, I have stepped into the wide, open spaces, into those places I might not think I have a right to go. It’s a little scary to leave the cozy, warm cocoon of smallness into this place where all things are possible. Especially because I’m not the person in charge. I’m no longer in control, in a place where things are familiar. To live out my purpose, I realize I have to dance along the edge of discomfort constantly. I have to be challenged and feel off-balance. I have to always be in a place where I feel like I don’t really know what I’m doing. I have to step into the wide open spaces where the well of knowledge might not be mine, and I have to ask my Father to provide me access.
And as I dance in those wide open spaces, God tells me, “Do not be afraid.”
So I take deep breaths.
I ask for what I don’t know.
And I enjoy the view of the expanse.