Over the past month, I’ve been rolling an idea around in my head: sometimes failure is easier than success.
I’ll admit that idea doesn’t always show itself in the form of failure, per se. You could substitute “settling” for “failure” with the same result. It may have been easier to go on staff with Campus Crusade for Christ when I graduated from college instead of choosing a different career path. It was easier to kick off my graduate career at the same university I’d been attending for years instead of entering a risky field elsewhere. Conversley, it was scary to drop out of grad school in favor of living with my parents and praying about my next step. I thought I was crazy – and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one! – when I moved to Alabama halfway through a semester to prepare for another academic program.
Though I’ve only two classes remaining in my chosen major, there are still days when I worry I’ve made bad decisions. Journalism is an extremely competitive field; can I hack it? Is my skin thick enough to absorb the countless rejections that I’ll receive (indeed, have already received)? Do I have the talent and drive that it will take to be a success?
The answer is simple. I don’t know. All I know is I’ve got a passion for writing that feels almost as deep-seeded as Jeremiah’s fire in his bones. I may prove unsuccessful in this career, but all I know is that I must try.
I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a (red dirt, kudzu consumed) cliff. Scratch that – I’ve already taken a tentative step forward. Small and uncertain as it is, that step has sent me falling quickly toward a new destination. I see the safety net at the bottom, but it’s not a job or promise of financial prosperity. Instead, Jesus is blocking my view of those things. I don’t know what hides behind him. But I do know, even as my heart leaps into my throat, that he will catch me.
And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:19