Wings

Sarah, you have such a fantastic opportunity to spread your wings!

I’ve listened to people say that for the past couple of months. Have believed it and celebrated it. Only to find that it’s not nearly as easy as I thought it would be.

A friend of mine once told the story of how, for his young daughter, he caught a butterfly and put it into a Mason jar. At the end of the day, he took the lid off and expected the butterfly to fly away. Curiously, it didn’t. He left the lid off the jar, set the jar on its side and tried to coax the butterfly out of the jar. Slowly, slowly, slowly, it hopped out of the jar, but it was a long time before it would take off and fly.

I feel like the butterfly. My lid has been taken off. But I’m clinging to the glass, wishing that somebody would put the lid back on again. It’s too scary. Too demanding. Too foreign. What if? What if? What if?

What if they find out that I’m not as smart/fun/happy/accomplished/charming as they thought I was?

What if they find out that I’m more scared/confused/unteachable/inflexible/religious than they thought I was?

What if I can’t get a good job?

What if I can’t adapt to my new surroundings?

What if all of my friends abandon me the way others have in the past?

What if all of my fears come true?

Today, I was cowering in my jar when I saw a friend who needed me to step out of the jar to help them. And I realized that as safe as it feels to stay in my jar, it severely limits how many people I can help.

And so I continue to hop, hop, hop, a tiny bit closer to the mouth of the jar each day. Hoping that no big hand swoops down and smashes me when I poke my head out of the jar.

And maybe someday, I’ll fly.