This evening, I sat down alone in my living room watching, "The Car" episode of "This Is Us." At the end of the episode, almost as an afterthought, the mother drives the kids over a bridge. Throughout the episode, each time they get to a bridge, she closes her eyes and squeals a bit in terror. But in the last moments of the episode, she does it. Why? How does she overcome it instantly -- this gripping fear that has held her heart for so long?
In her case, she needs to do it. He's gone. The man who drove her across that bridge is dead, and at his passing, she alone is left to do this. So, she gets behind the wheel, presses her foot on the accelerator, and when the moment comes, she just keeps her foot in place. It's that simple.
How many times have I had to face my fear and simply do it? Natural childbirth was all my idea. I wanted it, even though I whined for days about every single paper cut. And when the time came, I just did it. Three times with no anesthesia. It didn't look like anyone else's experience, but it was accomplished.
Homeschooling was scary. I couldn't get them to pick up their toys. How would I create the disciplined, orderly environment of a school room? It happened. Maybe the classroom wasn't anything but a sofa and a kitchen table, but it was our experience. Imperfect but ours.
Now as a woman trying to reinvent myself, I constantly face the questions in my own mind. Things that I imagine people saying. "Is this a midlife crisis?" "Who is she trying to impress?" "What on earth?" And I just do it.
Each of these times, I could feel a call to do something unique. The mom of these three teenagers on TV felt a call, too. There was a legacy to carry on, one her husband had left behind. In my case, there was a legacy to build. A legacy of commitment to my family. Of teaching them first and foremost who God is. And finally a legacy of becoming who God really meant me to be before I got creative and messed it all up.
Today, there's a call on your life. You can hear it. Face your fear. Get to work, put your foot on the accelerator, and don't stop. Just do it.