In my life, I’ve seen other guys do some pretty incredible things. Start new businesses, grow families, and begin movements with worldwide impact. In the meantime, I was just trying to believe I belonged in the world of men. They were far around the bend of the racetrack, and I was barely out of the starting gate, staring at dust clouds.
Their minds may have already been on the finish line, but the moment I stepped forward to enter the race, my mind was flooded with lies. I’ll never measure up. I’m uniquely flawed. I can’t make a difference. I’m broken.
The courage it took them to gallop side by side in a fierce competition to succeed was the same amount it took for me to trot through the dust cloud and peer around the bend. I shamed myself for that.
But what if I celebrated the courage it took me to believe something different about myself, God, and what was possible for my life instead of measuring my courage against their outward achievements. This courage, while initially undetectable by others, caused huge shifts in my soul. That was my race. That’s where I had to start.
So I took inventory of the lies and what required courage:
If I believed I measured up, more would be expected of me. I would fear failing expectations. I should let more qualified men go first. Believing I measured up required courage.
If I believed I wasn’t uniquely flawed, I would have no excuse to fail. I would fear ridicule. I should sit life out. Believing I was perfect in Christ required courage.
If I believed I could make a difference, then people may want to follow me. I would fear letting them down. I should stay on the sidelines. Believing I could make a difference required courage.
If I believed I was a man of courage, I might fear letting go of the lies that kept me safe. I could get hurt. I should forget about all this.
But I was tired of hiding my talents in the sand, letting my life tick by, and living half alive.
So, I chose to believe I am a man of courage.
Then, because that is who I am, I acknowledged my limiting beliefs, chose to replace them, and took small steps in a clear direction towards God’s grand vision for my life.
That was huge.
What takes courage for you?