Stepping Out

You never know what’s going to happen when you take a risk. It could be good, like trying a new recipe and discovering it’s quite delicious. Or it could land on the opposite end of the spectrum—where you declare said dish “disgusting” and fall on the floor in a raging tantrum. Not like anything remotely close to that happened at our house tonight. Nope, our kids would never do that.

I think that’s why I have a hard time stepping out of my comfort zone. If I could be assured of the outcome, then you betcha I’ll try that new thing or approach that person. But that’s not what a risk is, and it’s not stepping out in faith, trusting God with the outcome.

Last week my pastor challenged us to share the hope we have in Christ with others who may not know Him. This is definitely one of my weaker areas. I’ve always preferred to know people, attempt to live out my faith before them, and then share the gospel as we’ve developed a relationship. This type of evangelism is perfectly fine, but it can all too often become a cop-out for me.

Throughout the week, I asked God to give me opportunities to share my faith with someone. I even had a particular person in mind. Our next-door neighbor has battled on and off with cancer over the last several years, and last week shared that it’s now spread from his lungs into the lymph nodes and brain. Not a good diagnosis. Jon has tried to invite him to church in the past and bring up spiritual things, but Jon has always been shut down.

God did give me an opportunity to have a short conversation with our neighbor. Nothing like the best-case outcome I wanted, where he accepted Christ. But he listened when I told him that Jesus loved him (as did we), he told me how much he loved our kids, even pointing to a picture Sarah drew proudly displayed on his fridge. And he seemed willing to accept help, which he’s been reluctant to do in the past.

God also brought another unexpected opportunity for a spiritual conversation, and in the grocery checkout aisle no less. Who would have guessed that having your children obnoxiously joyfully hum Christmas carols while sitting in the cart would prompt a chat with the checker about living by biblical principles, the hope of Christ, and how the Bible is a great book, why not start with John? (Confession: While I tried to answer all of this kid’s questions and obey God’s prompting, I was so nervous that I forgot to punch all the buttons on the credit card machine and almost left without my receipt!)

What I learned? Keep looking for those opportunities and don’t be afraid to speak out about Jesus, even when you’re in the express lane at Russ’s with a long line behind you! And if you’re reading this, would you please pray for my neighbor? We want to be able to serve him in his time of need and both show him Christ and share about the hope he can have in the midst of this life and after.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. — Hebrews 11:1

Stretching

Well, it’s been one week into “my month of risks,” and I haven’t done anything too crazy. But I have been stretched and taken out of my comfort zone, both in little and big ways.

In addition to starting this blog again and having some uncomfortable moments, I had a fewer small “stretching times.” As an introvert, striking up a conversation with someone I don’t know is difficult, but I attempted to do so with a few moms while waiting to pick up my daughter from preschool. The conversations weren’t deep and we didn’t really even make a connection, but I tried.

In other news, I also parallel parked. (Successfully, I might add!) Jon laughed at me for including this one, but it really is something that causes me some anxiety. I would rather drive around the block a few times looking for a different parking space than try to parallel park. So when I was able to do this without having to go forward and backward multiple times, I let out a little cheer. Sarah in the backseat was not impressed.

And tonight, I took myself even farther out of my comfort zone by volunteering with my church at

People's City Mission

the city mission. Every month, a group of around eight people help out by serving the evening meal. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. It was fun to talk with the other volunteers as we served the meal and to get to know some people at church I’d never met before. It was humbling to realize how rich my family and I really are and how I often take for granted what God has blessed us with. And it made me sad to see all of the faces—men, women, and children of all ages, some hopeful and cheerful (even thanking us for serving) and others looking beat up, discouraged, and confused. I wondered about their stories, the circumstances that brought them to this place, and what kept them going day after day. I don’t know if my family’s schedule will always allow me to volunteer, but I would like to go again.

While my risk challenge hasn’t brought about huge changes thus far, it has made me more aware of opportunities to stretch myself and be more willing to step outside my comfortable little life. As I go about my day, I’m praying, “Lord, show me a place where I can take a risk today. Show me how I can focus more on serving You and less on serving myself.” Today, the risks might have been sharing a struggle with a  neighbor and volunteering the precious resource of time. Tomorrow, who knows? We’ll see what God will do.

Uncomfortable Moments

I am not a person who enjoys conflict. In fact, it makes me uncomfortable. For years, I tried to avoid it whenever possible. If a restaurant got my order wrong or didn’t cook my food right, I wouldn’t even send it back. I’d just eat it, inwardly upset, but not mad enough to do anything about it.

Enter my husband, someone who has no problem with conflict or confrontation. It was a little bit of an eye-opener when I first spent some significant time with his family (for all you Kroesches, remember the camping trip of 1998?) and discovered they had no problem disagreeing or even arguing with each other . . . in front of other people. What am I getting into? I wondered.

Well, God has used my non-conflict loving ways and my husband’s dive-in-headfirst personalities to balance each other out. And over our fifteen years of marriage, I’ve slowly learned how to handle conflict. No more do I morosely dine on inaccurate restaurant food—I confidently say, “Take it back!”

Well, it may sound confident, but I’m still a tad uncomfortable underneath it all. And when it comes to conflict in interpersonal relationships, I’m getting better, but I’ve still got a ways to go.

Which brings me to my “risk” of today—not just one but two moments of getting out of my comfort zone. Number one moment: Meeting with my son’s teacher; number two: meeting with my son’s principal, both at my husband’s and my request. There was nothing majorly wrong, per se, but there were some classroom and school issues we wanted to address. And I knew that some of our comments might not be received very well. I was right. There were a few moments of tense, awkward silence. But we got through it.

And the end result? We’ll see how it plays out in the long run, but I was overall pleased with the conversations. We got our points across, felt our concerns were heard, and were offered suggestions for how to address the issues that will be implemented this week.

I’m sure there are a lot of people similar to me who don’t like conflict, who would prefer to avoid those uncomfortable conversations. But if we always steer clear of talking about anything uncomfortable, the problem will still exist, relationships will stay on a surface level, we won’t be challenged or stretched. Being a mom is a role that’s making me take on those uncomfortable conversations more and more. If I am to be my children’s advocate and champion, then I can’t avoid conflict or confrontation. And God is teaching me how to stand up for things much more important than a messed-up meal, to pray for wisdom to know what needs to be said and ask for the courage to say it, even if it’s uncomfortable or not well received.

Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy. —Proverbs 27:6

Taking a Risk

One of my dreams is to move to the country with a big house and plenty of land for the kids to run

around and trees for them to climb (and maybe raise an animal or two). Sometimes (thanks to HGTV), I like to dream about finding an old farmhouse and bringing it back to life—keeping the nostalgic and charming features of the old but adding the convenience and beauty of the new.

But then reality comes crashing in. Undertaking a purchase and a renovation of that sort constitutes a risk—something I’m not very comfortable with. In fact, a few weeks ago when I was perusing Pinterest and dreaming my farmhouse dreams, I realized how very, very uncomfortable I am with risk, so much so that I avoid it. Even in the one electronic game I play, I tend to hoard my free daily “power-ups,” using them only when it will guarantee me a win. As I considered this about myself, I had one thought: Pathetic!

Well, maybe not pathetic, as taking a risk for risk’s sake isn’t very smart. I certainly don’t want my kids to do that. For example, I’d be thrilled if my son stopped jumping off high places (think two broken arms in less than six months). But on the other hand, as the saying goes, with great risk comes great reward. And if I never take a risk, what am I missing out on? And more importantly, am I missing out on something God wants me to do?

So this month, I’ve decided to step out in the risk department and try to expand my horizons, so to speak. At least three times a week, I am going to take some sort of risk. It might be something big or it could even be something little, just so it gets me out of my comfort zone.

Not one of the risks I'm planning to take!

My first risk is starting up this blog again, after four years of dormancy. Besides being a fulltime wife and mom, I’m a freelance writer and editor by trade. But another dream is to grow in that area, maybe even someday write a book. However, if I keep doing what I always do, it’s never going to happen. So I’m posting this link on Facebook, letting “the world” know what I’m doing—and making myself vulnerable, because (ack!) somebody might actually read what I’m posting!

Each time I take my risk, I’m going to blog about it. And along the way, I plan to study a well-known risk-taker in the Bible, Queen Esther, and share what God is teaching me.

So whether anyone reads these words or not, I’m kind of excited, but mostly nervous, to see what God’s going to teach me this month about what it means to take a risk for Him—which when you think about it, trusting and obeying Him really isn’t a risk at all.

Northpointe Kids Singing "Come On Ring Those Bells"

I'm new to the YouTube thing, so that's why I have these 2 videos in separate posts. Our church had the kids sing for Christmas during the service yesterday. We had practiced the songs with Jeremiah, coached him on standing still, and even had a discussion about that he would NOT be holding a microphone.

But evidently the speakers and poinsettias on the stage were just interesting enough that he needed to check them out. As one of his teachers told us, "He was just curious." Oh, if she only knew!

Anyway, the congregation was entertained! After a while, Jeremiah had enough, so he decided to make his exit.

Northpointe Kids Singing "Go, Tell It on the Mountain"

A lot happens when you don't blog for 4 months . . .