Tip of My Iceberg

At two and a half, Brooklyn has some specific ideas of what her life should look like.

Not uncommon with a firstborn. She’s been around adults a lot, and she’s been spoken to in a conversational mode that reflects more of an adult bent than baby talk.

Her enunciation and vocabulary amaze me.

One dear friend thinks she looks like me.

I don’t see it, but what I do recognize is she’s got my attitude.

I’m so sorry, Brooklyn.

She knows what she likes and what she won’t tolerate. She’s got an answer for almost every question asked of her.

And if it’s something she’s not tried and is being encouraged to attempt, her answer is always the same.

“No.”

If she could choose, she’d eat macaroni and cheese every day of her life. Fruit is a go, popsicles are awesome, ice cream is sublime. Don’t ask her to eat any vegetables. She’d wear pretty dresses all the time, and everything in the world would be pink.

Because of her language skills, I try to reason with her.

Seriously?

Trying anything new is a challenge. One she’s rarely desiring to tackle. Not for lack of courage. This little gal has guts to spare.

But when she makes up her mind that she won’t do something, changing her mind is akin to turning the Titanic.

Not done easily.

I tell Tiffany and Ramsay that they’ll be grateful for such a strong will once she gets older. She won’t be easily led astray. She won’t follow the crowd just because everyone else is doing it.

She may be the leader.

And the world will all wear pink.

Her unwillingness to try new things, however, reflects more about my heart than I often want to admit.

Taking chances to try new things isn’t always my cup of tea.

The funny thing is I truly love change. But on my terms. Knowing what I’m getting into. The out-of-control thing is tough. Allowing others to make the decisions and lead the way is harder than I easily acknowledge.

It takes trusting others, believing they have my best interests at heart.

Trusting is being courageous. Daring to be brave.

In our culture, bravery is often seen as doing the over-the-top act that truly helps others. That saves lives or makes living better for many.

True bravery for me pushes me past my fear. Courage to take that step of faith.

Submitting a book for possible publication. Speaking in front of an audience of people who might criticize what I say and how I say it.

Seeing my limits as a line in the sand and choosing to step over it.

At a time when safety feels fleeting, this is a big deal.

For me, I’m never alone in these endeavors.

I have Jesus with me, and fear isn’t in His vocabulary.

He isn’t the purveyor of fear, shame or guilt. His forgiveness covers that completely. He doesn’t hand out condemnation as punishment.

He convicts my heart when I’ve screwed up. But He’s on my side.

Stepping over the line of my fear?

I’m not relying on my bravery. I’ve got His strength.

Bring on that line!