Flipping Pages

Upon graduating high school in my birth state of Virginia, I took the road to Georgia, calling it my next home.  In doing so, I closed the cover of my book on adolescence and ventured to write my first novel of adulthood.

I went to college in the "Peach State," met my husband, started our family, and bought our first house.  Over 13 years, the chapters developed, seasons at a time-- friendships coming, going, and growing; having babies and raising kids; sharing life with loved ones; and becoming members of a community.  This is where our kids started school, celebrated their first birthdays, and made their first best friends. 

I thought that this parenting thing would be my main adventure- keeping house, volunteering, helping with homework, relating with other moms, and way more than I can list.  It wasn't hard to imagine how the story would unfold.  I made plans and set timelines, but I never expected what would happen next.

As I flipped the pages, a week ago, I found
THE
END.

What?!  The end of this chapter.  The account of our family saying goodbye to the familiar and preparing to meet something new.  A fresh beginning in a strange place.

It's a plot twist, and I'm in suspense.

The next part of this family's series will be set in South Carolina.  I am anxious to read ahead to see what's in store for us, but I suspect I will only uncover the mysteries one sentence at a time.

And so another adventure begins...

Just Start

I was a runner...once.  I wanted to be like my dad.  He ran track in high school and after.  So as soon as I had a chance to enter a meet, I did too.  I was in middle school and filled with dreams of the Olympics.  And I did okay.

After a few years, I learned that my heart wasn't really in the sport though.  My stomach was a mess of knots and dancing butterflies at the starting line.  This energizes some athletes, but it terrified me to be alone- to be running in circles with everyone watching me win or fail.  I hated that responsibility.  The fear held me back, and I lost interest after my freshman year of high school.  In my spirit, I quit.  However, I kept returning to the sport, because how else would I cure my after school boredom?

This is our girls' third year district track & field championship team. 

I'm obviously so tough & serious.

So each spring, week after week, when the announcer called my event, I met the competitors on the track.  We listened to a coach go over the ground rules and assign our lanes.  I know I wasn't the only nervous kid out there.  We each joked with each other before the gun went off, in an effort to push aside our common fears.  There was always a fleeting thought to fake sick or injured and run to hide until the race was over. 

Then, the signal sounded. 

Who wants to be left standing like an idiot on the starting line while everyone speeds forward on their mission towards victory?

Not me.

So the decision to put my feet to the pavement, despite my insecurities overruled the temptation to flee.  What's the worst that could happen?  I could lose.  I could make a fool of myself and trip over my own feet.  True.

But I could also finish.  I could beat my best time.  I could place in the top 3 and score points for my team.  I could surprise myself.  I could win.

So why not try?  Why not just start...and see what could happen?

If you're a procastinator like I am, there a few things that I have realized keep me from starting:

1. I'm afraid to fail.  I'm worried that it won't work out the way I hope.  
2. I don't think I'm qualified.  I think someone out there can do this better than I can.  
3. I wait for the perfect time to try.  Unfortunately, life is always full of interruptions.

So how do I overcome these self-defeating thoughts?

I remember the possibilities.
I anticipate a learning opportunity.
I hope for a wonderful outcome.
I pray for strength and courage.
I put my blinders on and look straight ahead.
I set a goal.

Then, I just start.