Dare
/Der/ Verb- Have the courage to do something.
Daring isn’t a new concept. We are introduced to it at a young age. Taking a first step. Jumping into the deep end of a pool. Truth or dare.
It’s an action that can and will change the trajectory of our lives no matter how big or small.
It’s pivotal.
The whole concept of daring was one that use to bring me so much life. It was something I based my life off of. But I didn’t realize until the other night that something in me shifted.
Daring, for the first time in my life seemed like a terrible concept.
“Daring” in this recent season of my life has seemed to backfire on me.
Heartbreak. Disappointment. Uncertainty.
It’s left a bitter taste in my mouth that I can’t seem to get rid of. Because of this my concept of daring was being skewed.
The other night I was sitting at a friends kitchen table with a paintbrush in one hand while a blank journal page was exposed. Not sure what to paint, I looked at the white page.
Blank.
Frustrated that nothing was translating from the brush to the page.
“Dare, Sara.”
I sat for an extended amount of time doing nothing but listening to the word dare repeat in my head.
Finally, I asked the Lord what He meant. How did He want me to dare? He highlighted a few colors and said paint.
For the first time in a very long while, I painted with no purpose. No plan, no agenda, just painted. A mix of blue, and brick red abstractly filled up my blank white page.
Freedom. Peace. Purpose.
I was daring.
Taking up the courage to do something.
No guidelines, but just stepping out and doing it.
I missed it so much.
The things that I have been recently been walking through scared me. Triggering me in every way possible, which resulted in me using every protection mechanism I had.
Playing it “safe” and not daring seemed to be a great way to protect myself. The funny thing about that whole concept was even though I was playing it “safe” I felt even worse. I was limiting myself when the Lord said dare. I was so tired and afraid of being tired and hurt that I desperately gave up what gave me life. Daring to go the extra mile. Daring to love people with all my heart. Daring to take big steps when the Lord says move. Daring to grow in intimacy with the Lord. Daring to feel joy and happiness. Daring to try new things. Daring to say the hard thing in love. Daring to fight for those around me. Daring to be my true self.
So, I choose to dare.
Choosing to have the courage to do something. Anything. Because not daring has caused me to become stagnate, complacent, comfortable. And I am not a woman of those characteristics.
The Lord has made me wild, free, full of life, adventure, depth.
I dare to walk towards that.
As I think about what words I can use to sum this whole thing up, I am reminded of a quote from Theodore Roosevelt. His words resonate in me a little deeper each time I read it.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
Roosevelts quote reminds me that I am not alone. It’s okay to be where I am, but to never fail to dare.
