I thought I was okay with rejection. I really did. I usually can take a harsh word or being eliminated from things or groups. Ya, it hurts. But, I typically can get over things fairly quick. And then my husband entered the equation.
A few weeks ago I found an opportunity to get another master's degree; an opportunity that seemed to fit our family and my schedule perfectly. I have talked about getting this degree since my early twenties. It's about time I put my money where my mouth is, so to speak. I called my husband while I was filling out the application because I needed some information he had and I didn't. He was traveling home from being out of town for a few days so when I asked for the info, I kind of shocked him with my new venture.
He got home shortly after our phone conversation and plopped down next to me on the love seat in my office. He started pushing me and questioning me about this master's program. If I'm being honest, it was quite irritating. I just wanted some information from him so I could complete the application. I did not ask for an interrogation.
Anyway, he proceeded to push and prod getting me to really think about what I was stepping into. We both know that getting a master's degree takes a lot of time and is a big financial burden to bear. He wanted to make sure I had a plan as to what I was going to do with this degree (I have a Master's in Education that is currently collecting dust as we speak.) and that I wasn't doing this just to check a box. He wanted to know my goals for this endeavor and then he dropped the hammer.
He asked me, "What do you really want to do?" I looked at him in stunned silence. How on earth did he know that getting my masters is kind of a ploy to distract me from what I really want to pursue but am deathly afraid to follow through? Maybe because he's known me for over twenty plus years. He can tell when I am choosing the "easy route" instead of trudging along towards what I really want. At any rate, he asked me that question and of course the tears started flooding out before I uttered I word.
In that moment I knew what was stopping me: fear.
Fear of rejection stunned me into complacency.
You see, a master's program while challenging, is totally predictable. You have a set of classes you must take and pass in order to graduate. You are guaranteed a pretty little certificate at completion. Reward awaits you. All that has to happen is you have to show up. You may get a low grade here or there, but, for the most part, you will carry on your way floating through the courses knowing exactly what is going to come next. This is comfortable to me. School is my jam. I could do it forever.
But, I don't think that's what I am supposed to do.
Ugh.
I watch a few moms on Instastories and Facebook and love their videos. They inspire me and help me not feel crazy. As I was watching a couple of their videos, I thought that is what I want to do. I want to encourage ladies to live their best life. I want women to believe in themselves and find their confidence in Christ. I desire us as women to not be afraid to show the realities of life: the messy, beautiful goings-on of the everyday normal chaos. Yes, there are already moms and bloggers out there talking about home decor, the latest health craze, sharing the best swimsuit, and showing the realities of motherhood. But, I want women to know that we ALL have a place to share and we ALL have a voice that needs to be heard. No one can say what you have to say the way you say it. So, I decided to get vulnerable and add Instastories to my repertoire along with writing. I will try and share the good, the bad, and the messy of my little corner in this world. Not to show off, but to encourage. I desire to show the raw and the real and how it all fuses together in grace. We are in this together and I couldn't believe that more than right this very second. So, I come to you in all vulnerability as I set off on this new journey. I will mess up. I will fall. I will be rejected. But, the Cornerstone will be there to lift me up every second of the way.
"The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone." Psalm 118:22
Jesus was rejected. Even if you don't believe in his divinity, history tells the story of his rejection. Yet, that didn't stop him. He spoke boldly and on numerous occasions about his rejection. But, he kept going. He had a mission, a calling, and he lived it out fervently regardless of the naysayers. I feel like if Jesus was rejected and didn't let that deter him from his ultimate purpose, than I can take the leap of faith and run straight into my dreams and what I feel he is calling me to. The very one who was rejected became the ultimate foundation to all our lives and he accomplished this through rejection.
I know I am supposed to jump off that cliff. You know, the one I keep standing on the edge of walking back a little ready to get a running start in order to jump but at the last minute my feet come to a screeching halt as the dust kicks up from underneath blinding me. I don't want to jump. Jumping scares the begeebies out of me. Just writing about this makes my palms sweaty. But I know I have to do it. I have to follow through and pursue my dream and what I know God has placed in my heart.
Writing is scary to me. I cannot tell you how many times I have thought how stupid I am for writing this blog. I am not kidding. I think about all my imperfections, my inadequacies, and all the beautifully talented women who are already doing this very thing. But then I get a text or private message from someone I haven't talked to in ages and they tell me my words encouraged them. That's when I decide to jump.
I promised myself on that little love seat next to my husband that I would jump. I would run and take that leap no matter what kind of rejection awaits me on the other side. I will not grab onto the comfortable (although, getting my masters in theology will happen one day). Instead, I will pursue what I know the Lord is calling me to. I didn't know how afraid I was of rejection until I stared fear in the face.
My palms are sweaty.
My heart is racing.
I want to cry.
But I am going to jump.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
A few weeks ago I found an opportunity to get another master's degree; an opportunity that seemed to fit our family and my schedule perfectly. I have talked about getting this degree since my early twenties. It's about time I put my money where my mouth is, so to speak. I called my husband while I was filling out the application because I needed some information he had and I didn't. He was traveling home from being out of town for a few days so when I asked for the info, I kind of shocked him with my new venture.
He got home shortly after our phone conversation and plopped down next to me on the love seat in my office. He started pushing me and questioning me about this master's program. If I'm being honest, it was quite irritating. I just wanted some information from him so I could complete the application. I did not ask for an interrogation.
Anyway, he proceeded to push and prod getting me to really think about what I was stepping into. We both know that getting a master's degree takes a lot of time and is a big financial burden to bear. He wanted to make sure I had a plan as to what I was going to do with this degree (I have a Master's in Education that is currently collecting dust as we speak.) and that I wasn't doing this just to check a box. He wanted to know my goals for this endeavor and then he dropped the hammer.
He asked me, "What do you really want to do?" I looked at him in stunned silence. How on earth did he know that getting my masters is kind of a ploy to distract me from what I really want to pursue but am deathly afraid to follow through? Maybe because he's known me for over twenty plus years. He can tell when I am choosing the "easy route" instead of trudging along towards what I really want. At any rate, he asked me that question and of course the tears started flooding out before I uttered I word.
In that moment I knew what was stopping me: fear.
Fear of rejection stunned me into complacency.
You see, a master's program while challenging, is totally predictable. You have a set of classes you must take and pass in order to graduate. You are guaranteed a pretty little certificate at completion. Reward awaits you. All that has to happen is you have to show up. You may get a low grade here or there, but, for the most part, you will carry on your way floating through the courses knowing exactly what is going to come next. This is comfortable to me. School is my jam. I could do it forever.
But, I don't think that's what I am supposed to do.
Ugh.
I watch a few moms on Instastories and Facebook and love their videos. They inspire me and help me not feel crazy. As I was watching a couple of their videos, I thought that is what I want to do. I want to encourage ladies to live their best life. I want women to believe in themselves and find their confidence in Christ. I desire us as women to not be afraid to show the realities of life: the messy, beautiful goings-on of the everyday normal chaos. Yes, there are already moms and bloggers out there talking about home decor, the latest health craze, sharing the best swimsuit, and showing the realities of motherhood. But, I want women to know that we ALL have a place to share and we ALL have a voice that needs to be heard. No one can say what you have to say the way you say it. So, I decided to get vulnerable and add Instastories to my repertoire along with writing. I will try and share the good, the bad, and the messy of my little corner in this world. Not to show off, but to encourage. I desire to show the raw and the real and how it all fuses together in grace. We are in this together and I couldn't believe that more than right this very second. So, I come to you in all vulnerability as I set off on this new journey. I will mess up. I will fall. I will be rejected. But, the Cornerstone will be there to lift me up every second of the way.
"The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone." Psalm 118:22
Jesus was rejected. Even if you don't believe in his divinity, history tells the story of his rejection. Yet, that didn't stop him. He spoke boldly and on numerous occasions about his rejection. But, he kept going. He had a mission, a calling, and he lived it out fervently regardless of the naysayers. I feel like if Jesus was rejected and didn't let that deter him from his ultimate purpose, than I can take the leap of faith and run straight into my dreams and what I feel he is calling me to. The very one who was rejected became the ultimate foundation to all our lives and he accomplished this through rejection.
I know I am supposed to jump off that cliff. You know, the one I keep standing on the edge of walking back a little ready to get a running start in order to jump but at the last minute my feet come to a screeching halt as the dust kicks up from underneath blinding me. I don't want to jump. Jumping scares the begeebies out of me. Just writing about this makes my palms sweaty. But I know I have to do it. I have to follow through and pursue my dream and what I know God has placed in my heart.
Writing is scary to me. I cannot tell you how many times I have thought how stupid I am for writing this blog. I am not kidding. I think about all my imperfections, my inadequacies, and all the beautifully talented women who are already doing this very thing. But then I get a text or private message from someone I haven't talked to in ages and they tell me my words encouraged them. That's when I decide to jump.
I promised myself on that little love seat next to my husband that I would jump. I would run and take that leap no matter what kind of rejection awaits me on the other side. I will not grab onto the comfortable (although, getting my masters in theology will happen one day). Instead, I will pursue what I know the Lord is calling me to. I didn't know how afraid I was of rejection until I stared fear in the face.
My palms are sweaty.
My heart is racing.
I want to cry.
But I am going to jump.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
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