One of the most beautiful experiences of writing has been the friendships I have made. Amy Sullivan is wickedly smart, talented with words, and welcomes with open arms and kindness. She gathered up a group of bloggers to join in her #riskrejection challenge this January.
Click here to see Amy’s first risk and read all the link-ups.
I am not a risk-taker. Mainly, because I hate rejection. Rejection, the word makes me want to hide in my bed, covers pulled over my head. People pleasers don’t embrace rejection.
Risking rejection scares me. Something funny has happened every time I have done it. Something stronger emerges deep inside me. I feel God’s arms wrap around me. His relief, you trust me. Life is short. Going deeper, reaching further, listening and not ignoring his voice makes these moments mean something.
I have three risks to share with you.
My first is a simple word that departs from my mouth very slowly.
The word is no. This word scares me, because I feel like its recipient will forever hate me. Maybe, it’s more that I will hate myself for not being able to do it all, for not being perfect, for messing up.
This fall, I committed to helping with Wednesday night nursery at my church. I also took a new day job and am writing a curriculum in the evenings. This semester, I need to admit that I can’t do it. Everything, I can’t do. I want to do everything. I can’t. It’s being honest and trusting that others will honor that. It’s not hating myself for everything I can’t do.
This is a little risk. A little word. Big to me and my heart.
Please come back next Friday. I will share a rejection that I’m willing to try again.
What has risking rejection meant in your life?
What has emerged after you took that leap of faith?