“Um… so… your sister just shaved her head.”
This is what I yelled to Judah from my comfy living room couch nest. He was squeezing in a rushed bathroom break during a Hulu commercial when I stumbled upon Meghann’s newest instagram post.
“Wait… what? WHAT? Did you say “shaved”? Like buzzed? Or bald? Not that it really matters…She SHAVED her head?”
He ran back in the room and grabbed his phone and over and over we watched the video of her shaving her head, a huge smile on our faces. For sure we were both thinking the same thing.
“This chick is crazy. And SO. BAD. ASS.”
Her post comment read like this:
“It’s been 21 years since I first wanted to shave my head. 21 years of overthinking it and worrying too much about the perceptions and thoughts of others to actually go through with it. There is something about this season for me that has lent itself to rediscovering and inner-strength and confidence. Here’s to you 17 year old Meggy.”
Not gonna lie, I cried a little when I read that. Something about her bravery spoke to me instantly. Deep inside of me something … turned over. A part of me that for years has been balancing on it’s toes on the edge of a cliff finally just… let go.
I’m not brave. UGH. I could burst into tears staring at those three words on the screen.
Okay sure, I guess one could argue that being a military wife with all it’s unique challenges requires some semblance of bravery. As does motherhood. But I’m not brave in the big things. In the “step out of your comfort zone” and “take a leap of faith” kind of ways. I used to be brave. I used to be the fly across the world, sleep in hammocks in the jungle and swim with pirañas kind of brave. I used to put it all out there, give one hundred percent, and completely live in the moment. I embraced the spontaneity of life. I dove headlong into my passions. I shared my faith without concern of what people would think or say. I used to live without the fear of failure looming over my head. I used to just say yes.
But then. I failed. I put myself out there, and I failed. Over and over, I failed.
And somewhere along the line I just gave up. Because it was easier to just stop trying than to keep getting rejected again and again. So my fire died and somewhere I became complacent with an easy, simple life. I started caring more about what other people thought than about what really made me happy, what really made me come alive.
Meghann’s post came at the perfect time. I have been praying about what God has for me in this next season of life and the idea of starting a blog has come up on multiple occasions. But every time I shrug it off because … well, if I’m truthful, it’s because I don’t want to fail. So I come up with a million excuses why I shouldn’t: I’m too late to start a blog, I won’t be relevant. No one cares what I have to say. I don’t have time to keep a blog. Yada, yada, yada.
But God keeps putting His gentle finger on the part of my heart that is telling me that this is what I should do. Because it’s not about if we fail or don’t fail. What matters is that we are brave. And today Meghann reminded me that fear is not a good enough reason to say no.
So this blog is me. Shaving my head. I have no idea what it’s going to be so buckle up. I’m just gonna say yes.