Monday, November 10, 2014
In . . . and Out of the Zone
We all have a comfort zone. It's where we feel loved, accepted, and safe. However, life very rarely lets us stay there. I'm thinking that's part of why we're in mortal mode--it's a challenge we actually thought was a good idea during a certain council meeting we all attended before Earth life began. Because of the decision we made during that time, we are continually presented with situations that force us forward. As such, it probably doesn't behoove us to throw ourselves when change arrives in our lives. (But we tend to do it anyway, eh?)
It takes a certain amount of courage to tamp down our nervousness, and do our best to embrace those growing experiences when they come. I'll admit there are moments (like this past week) when I've been tempted to run screaming the other direction. To borrow a phrase from Cap'n Hook, that is considered "bad form."
This past week, I was sustained in a calling that terrifies me. A lot. I'm totally being pulled out of my comfort zone of working with the youth . . . and find myself serving adult women. Gulp! I suppose this means that I have to grow up now. ;) It helps that I won't be facing this challenging time alone--I'll be serving with some wonderful women who are already doing a fantastic job. But there are still moments when a bit of fear gnaws at my heart and I tremble as I ponder some of the stretching that will now take place in my life. (Did I mention, GULP?!)
I've been thinking a lot about other times in my life when courage was required. For instance, when I was about nine years old, one of my great challenges involved a feisty rooster. We lived on a small acreage and possessed several animals, including chickens. One of my assigned chores was to gather the eggs each day. I loved finding the eggs--it was like a treasure hunt as I searched the creative places our hens tended to use in the chicken coop--instead of the nice nesting boxes my parents had constructed. I hated that each day I had to face a mean rooster we had named, Doodle. Doodle was a rooster with an attitude problem. He felt it was his duty in life to attack anyone who dared to invade the chicken coop. He was particularly gifted at utilizing the large spurs on his strong legs to share his displeasure each afternoon.
I caught on that it was a good idea to enlist the help of my younger brother with this task. He would stamp around the outside of the fenced chicken yard until Doodle ran out to accept this obvious challenge to his manhood. I would race inside the chicken coop and slide a board over the opening that led out into the yard, effectively locking the rooster out of the coop. Then I could gather the eggs in peace. This system worked well--my first adventure with teamwork. But there were days when my brother couldn't help me. Then I had to come up with a different plan.
One day when I came back to the house bleeding and eggless from one of my daily battles with Doodle, my mother gave me some good advice--speak not so softly and carry a big stick. I didn't like this option as well, but I found that when the ox was in the mire--or Doodle was on the rampage and I had to face him on my own, I could smack him upside his head with the stick and while he wandered around trying to regain his fetchies, I could quickly gather the eggs and leave before he realized what was going on. It took a lot of courage on my part to tackle this version of handling Doodle. When he came charging at me, my instinct for survival kicked in and it was tempting to run the other way screaming. Instead, I had to stand my ground--and bravely face the oncoming fury, praying for help as I wielded my small wooden sword.
We're all facing battles of epic proportions in today's crazy world. It requires a lot of courage to stand our ground, and not give way to the fiery attacks of the adversary. He loves to inspire fear and discouragement anyway that he possibly can. It's up to us to figure out a way to avoid the pitfalls he leaves in our path, and to continue on with our journey, leaving our comfort zones behind. How wonderful that we don't have to make these journeys alone--that we are blessed with the help of others who can bolster us along the way, giving us the added strength we need.
Someday, when we look back on the lives we led in mortal mode, I think it will be those times when we left our comfort zones that will mean the most to us. We will look to those occasions and smile, knowing those were the moments that inspired the most growth, helping us to become who we are meant to be.
P.S. Before I wrote this post, I woke up with Hymn # 243 going through my head. Its title: "Let Us All Press On." ;) Check out the lyrics when you get the chance.