But then, that was me then. The older I get, the less afraid of change I seem to be. Maybe I want bangs. Maybe it will be fun! Maybe they'll be awful, but they'll grow out in a matter of months, so who cares.Ten years ago I would never have described myself as adventurous. Well, I don't know if I really am now, but I'm much more intrigued with the possibility. New experiences, new foods, new perspectives, new places ...
It's not a new me. Nothing has really changed over time. Maybe I'm just realizing how fascinated I am with this world and God's plan for the people in it. What was He thinking when He brewed up this earthly concoction? I'd like to be part of it and not just observe from afar.I am in awe of so many amazing people I know who embrace life with all it's challenges and opportunities. They do so with a willingness and passionate ferocity that humbles me. But once you start, it can be easy to feel puny and wimpy in comparison. Life is different for different people, isn't it. What may be a big leap for me, may be small change for someone else. We're not all in the same place to accept the same challenges. And that's okay too.
While I may dream of my own little adventures, it's not hard for me to get scared, or hop onto the worry train. I still like predictability and security. But then, does striving for that cocoon mean I'll ever actually achieve it? In my experience, no. So. Why not try that funky-looking squid, dive into homeschooling and release again, read books about Chinese vagabonds, invite people to dinner and not worry about how clean the house is, travel to Central America with a child and husband, and ... even ... volunteer for bangs again.
Adventure is what you make of it. Don't you think?
