Two words that carry a lot of weight.
What if I take this new job – with the big title and the bigger responsibilities – and I fail?
What if I fully devote myself to writing and creativity and people don’t want to hear the stories I have to tell?
What if I, finally, dive deep into photography and I’m horrible – actually cringeworthily horrible?
What if I say no to a date with this man and no one else comes along?
What if I chase the adventure I’ve been dreaming of all these years and it doesn’t work out and I have to come crawling back home?
What if I make the wrong call?
What if I hadn’t moved to Chicago when people thought I was crazy for doing so, when I chose to quit my security to relocate to a place where I had none?
What if I hadn’t decided to study abroad my senior year of college, when I gave up what little time I had left with my group of friends for a new set and different memories?
What if I hadn’t said yes to three girls who invited me into community, when I decided to ignore the voices telling me I was too old to live with so many roommates?
What if I’d made the wrong call? Sure.
But what if I hadn’t made a call at all?
I’d be left with that sinking, sickening feeling that comes with wondering and wanting to know…
I don’t want to be a wavering woman, one who procrastinates until the decision has been made for her, one who looks back and wishes she’d had the courage to step out in faith?
No, I want to have the fortitude to boldly move forward when I come to those forks in the road.
I want to be old and grey with a few wrinkles – just enough to show wisdom – and I want to look back at my life with a sense of thank goodness.
Thank goodness I took risks and didn’t let fear get in the way.
Thank goodness I persevered and refused to let circumstances hold me back.
Thank goodness I don’t have to wonder, what if.