Pushing the Envelope

     I never want to be a borring person.  Maybe that’s not the best word to use, but I’m struggling to come with a more accurate way to describe them.  The type of people who are afraid to move out of their little box, and so they stay stuck there their entire lives, and become borring and predictable as a result… I never want to end up like that.  And so I keep trying to push myself, if only in little ways, to step out of my box.  The following is a list of what I’ve managed over the past few months, written out both so that I don’t forget what I’ve done and so that I can give myself credit for accomplishing something on days when I’m feeling less-than valuable.

Things I’ve done to push the envelope as of late:

-I signed up to be a Greeter at church.

-I wore shorts on a walk…it was just once, and it was dark out…but I’m still counting it.

-I was completely honest and told my dad, when he asked how to find my blog online, that I’d prefer it if he didn’t read it.  I explained that I was worried I’d edit the way I wrote if I knew my dad was reading it, which would completely and totally defeat the purpose of writing anything to begin with… and my dad was ok with that.

-I went on a date.

-I drove downtown, through the City, on my own and without really knowing where I was going, so I could take my dog to one of those leashless dog parks.  And then I spent all afternoon there, by myself, making small talk with over-the-top dog owners who treat their dogs like they’re their children.  And had a really good time.

-I bought a swim suit… and then wore it swimming.

-I rode the Sky Coaster.

-I drove across the state to visit my grandmother.

-I’ve started praying for help.

A Nice Reminder

Do you ever go into something without completely and totally looking forward to it, only to come out if it being incredibly grateful that you went ahead and did it anyway?  That happens to me a lot.  Probably a lot more that it should, actually.  Which most likely says something about how motivated I am about going out and doing things, especially new things that take me outside of my comfort zone. 

Yesterday, after church, my ABF group had a get-together at a cottage on Lake Ontario (ABF, for those of you who don’t know, stands for Adult Bible Fellowship – I always think of them as Sunday school classes for big people).  Emails had been sent out for weeks before hand, informing all the class members of the date and time of the get-together, the location of and directions to the cottage, and encouraging us all to RSVP.  I didn’t RSVP.  I wasn’t planning on attending. 

I love my ABF group; they are wonderful, incredible people and I get so much out of attending class with them all.  At times, however, I feel incredibly out of place.  Not because of anything anyone says or does, but because of the way things are; in my ABF, I am the youngest one there.  I am one of the few without children.  The only one still in college.  I am one of the very few who isn’t married.  And so it’s easy for me, when the conversation turns to potty training or marital issues, to feel a little lost.   

Susan’s daughter and son-in-law are in my ABF, and I had assumed they weren’t going to attend the get-together because one of their daughters turned 10 yesterday.  I went out with Susan for lunch, meeting the Adopteds there so we could celebrate Susan’s grand-daughter’s birthday.  At the restaurant, I was coerced into attending the ABF get-together by Susan’s daughter, and ended up going with she and her husband after we left the restaurant. 

It ended up being a really fabulous day; I did not feel like the tag-along I had worried about being.  I did not feel out of place.  I did not feel like I was crashing a party I’d not been invited to.  Instead, I felt like I was part of the group.  I felt like I belonged.  Which is the way you’re supposed to feel with your church family. 

So, to make a long story short, I suppose what I learned yesterday was that I worry too much.  I spend entirely too much time wondering what others will think of me, worrying that I won’t fit in and don’t belong.  These worries and fears aren’t worth missing everything I miss because of them, and are based on lies most of the time anyway.  This is something God’s going to have to continually point out to me, I know,  and I was grateful for his reminder yesterday.